


The Saltwater Room

by Reservation_Red



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: AU, F/F, Mermaid-ish, Ocean, Seaside, YumiHisu, strange, yumikuri
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-08-14 06:19:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 23,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8001661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reservation_Red/pseuds/Reservation_Red
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Do you believe in mermaids? </p><p>No?</p><p>I don't know if I do either but somewhere deep inside of me I know I am one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stormy Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> The Saltwater Room by Owl City

I didn’t remember much of Grandmother’s house except that it smelled like salt, nectarines, and rain. 

When I was smaller, the early September rain was always accompanied by hand-picked, ripe nectarines. I used to love them but they lost their charm as I got older. Now, they only served as a key to the almost lost memories of sticky fingers and the rolling of distant thunder.

It was almost welcoming with its sweet memories. 

“You better have got all your bags,” Mother was exhausted as she sat down on the porch, wiping sweat from her forehead as I sat down my light suitcase. “I don’t want to find any of your shit left in there. Last thing mom needs is to pay for your forgetfulness.” 

I stood off to the side, staring at Grandmother’s neglected garden. It was a little surprising to find it so unkempt. I vividly remembered it being prim and bursting with delicious tomatoes, cucumbers, and blueberries with assortments of blooming flowers. Now, it was dark with mud, most of the plants were dried up and dead, and as I sniffed, I found that her home only smelled of the ocean. 

That’s right. 

It wasn’t even August yet. It was the beginning of June. The nectarines were still growing in the hillside orchards this time of year, but, we were on the cusp of the rainy season. I found myself almost nostalgically drawn to the yearning for rain, but it was short lived as I remembered how easy it was to get soaked. 

“Take off that stupid thing,” Mother grumbled, “you look fucking ridiculous.” 

I turned towards her as I felt pins and needles shoot up my spine. 

“Ah, Alma, is that you?” Grandmother’s voice drew closer at an agonizing pace. “Alma? Dear?”

Mother shot up, smiling. 

“Yes, mom! Here, let me help you!” Mother gave me a cold glance. “Hurry, Historia, go help mom.” 

I quickly slid out of my sandals and got onto the porch, padding quietly over the polished wooden flooring. 

“Ah, Historia, is that you, too, dear? I haven’t heard from you in ages, dear. Come here, come here,” Grandmother beckoned as I went through her clean living room to the hallway where she stood, idly creeping forward with her snail pace. 

My eyes caught onto her unfocused gaze, staring everywhere but me as their cloudy irises were still. 

“Hi, Gamma,” I gently took her hand into mine as she exhaled, relived. 

“Can’t get around as fast as I used to,” she chortled, leaning into my frame as I led her to the porch, “ever since my sight gave out everything is a big task, dear.” 

“It’s okay, Gamma. I got you.” 

“Thanks, dear,” her eyebrows pursed together, “though, I think my hearing is getting worse… you sound far away.” 

I was quiet as I stopped a generous distance from Mother, standing inside as my grandmother let go of my hand, turning her head here and there, trying to figure out where mother was. 

“Mom,” she finally spoke up, walking over to her and gingerly hugging her. “It’s so good to see you!”

“You, too, dear,” Grandma gave her a big, long hug until mother had to pull away. 

“Say,” Mother kept her eyes on Grandma, “how’d you know it was Historia and not me who went and got you? Can you still see some?”

Grandma chuckled, keeping her hand in Mother’s. 

“Oh, Alma, Historia has always been a small girl. You’re more filled out and had a heavier footstep.” She was quite pleased when Mother gaped, offended that Grandmother would ever comment on her weight. 

“Are you saying I’m fat, mom?!”

“Dear, no,” Grandmother snorted, “you’re small but Historia is very much smaller. Now, how about tea?”

Mother didn’t like that one bit as it was yet another reminder of her fleeting youth. I imagined she even thought I intentionally grabbed the source of her beauty and ripped it out as I came out of the womb, stealing it all for myself.

“Actually, mom, I’m on a very tight schedule. I have to get back into town and talk to Rod about some things.” Mother insisted, letting go of Grandmother’s hand and walk away. The sad look on Grandmother’s face hurt. 

“Are you still seeing that man, Alma? He’s no good, I tell you,” her voice was frail and small and I never thought I’d ever see my grandmother any less than strong and full of life. She had always been the embodiment of a joyous laugh. “You fought so hard to keep Historia… and all those dirty tricks he did…”

“No, no, not that,” Alma assured, “we have to talk about financial things. Historia requires a lot more care than I can afford right now… so, I need his help.”

Or, more like that she wanted to ditch me here. 

Unfortunately for her vindictive attitude, this place was going to be quiet and nice—something I valued over her loud, suffocating house that smelled of artificially flowery candles. 

“Is that so? Well, me and Historia will look after each other, but don’t be gone too long, okay? Visit us often! Train tickets don’t cost much these days!” Grandmother was smiling again as she waved. 

I kept my post in the house, watching as Mother glared over her shoulder at me. 

“Even though mom can’t see,” Mother called me out, “you should dress your very best. You hear?” 

“Yes, mother,” the air was growing thick and heavy as the wind took a stronger scent as she left us behind. 

I could almost taste the rain as I turned my head, bag rustling and causing Grandmother to give her my attention. 

“Oh, did you two get snacks before coming here?” Grandmother came to me, taking my hand. “I have lots here, you silly girls. No need to buy extra.”

“Of course,” I agreed, guiding her to the kitchen. “Let me make you some tea, gamma. Would you like mint or lavender?” 

The peal of thunder made its mark on my heart as I felt a warmth grow inside me. Back home, the rain was dirty and made the alleys smell like piss and decay, causing the whole city to stink like a hellhole. It made me hate rain as I felt my lips sticking from the increased humidity. 

I thought I was over the rain and promise of juicy nectarines but Grandmother’s smile told me otherwise. 

Perhaps being forced here would prove refreshing. Maybe even purifying.

**-x-x-x-**

The rain came down like the merciless arrows of a divine army, forcing anyone and everyone to retreat inside. Even when evening came and the street lamps flickered on with their drowsy buzzing, the rain continued its downpour, humming and whispering with the distant ocean waves.

“Gamma,” I took my gaze from the watery window, “how’re you feeling? Need more water?”

I was seated at her bedside, quietly reading her a book. 

“Ah, I feel wonderful. Though, this rain sounds so lovely… I think I will go to bed early, dear. Will you be okay? Do you remember where the bathroom and towels are? If you feel peckish, you can eat whatever you want, dear.” 

“I do. Thank you, Gamma. Do you need an extra quilt?” The house had a cold draft that kept sneaking its way under my shirt, chilling me. 

Grandma shook her head. 

“I will be fine, dear. I love the cold.” She smiled, nestling in, and for a moment I thought of going to bed, too, because she made it seem like the most relaxing thing I could do right now. 

“Goodnight, gamma,” I whispered, gently stroking the stray hairs behind her ear as she kissed my hand. 

“Goodnight, love bug. See you tomorrow.” 

With that, I got up and quietly slid the sliding door shut. 

I would love no better than to go unpack up in my room and brood over what I’d spend my time doing here, but I had more urgent matters. I pulled my phone out of my pocket as its fluorescent light lit up the hallway. 

I quickly typed in the town’s name and hoped for the best as I brought up the convenience store’s hours. 

I exhaled, relieved and had to adjust my face a bit with my hands—it was all sticky as my hair was clinging to my face and mouth. I fetched the stray hair out as I went to the front door, pulling on a hoodie. 

The store was going to be closing in about ten minutes. It was only a three minute walk up the hill from here if I took the alleyways, but who knew how slippery or mucky it was with the rain. I just had to hope I’d make it in time. 

“Ah,” I unlocked the door, frowning. 

Grandmother hadn’t told me where she put the spare keys, and I didn’t necessarily want to alert her that I was going to the store in this weather. She’d tell me to wait and I wouldn’t have a good excuse to go. 

It was such a small town, though. Everyone knew everyone and nobody would be invading each other’s houses unless it was an emergency…

I kept the door unlocked as I opened the door. 

A large gust of wind narrowly blew my cover as it howled, frothing and pelting me with rain. I gritted my teeth, blinking back the tears in my eyes from its force as I hunkered inward on myself and stepped outside. I hastily threw my hood on, drawing the strings taut so it didn’t get blown off on my trip. I turned around and jiggled the door handle a couple of times, ensuring I didn’t lock myself out in the storm before closing the door and quickly walking off. 

I had about nine minutes now to get there, hurriedly get my stuff, and get back. 

The storm was so heavy that the streetlights did little to help as I began to jog, hiding my hands in my pockets. 

I had forgot how steep the hill was as I barely made it to the top after a few laborious minutes of jogging, but my hard work was paid off as I saw the bright neon lights of the convenience store shining through the dark like a beacon. 

The streets were flooding, soaking my sneakers and socks as I ran across the road, and right into the store, barely waiting for the automatic doors to open. 

The man behind the counter was too busy restocking the cigarettes to bellow a greeting as I shuffled down the aisles, searching and searching and searching—there we are. 

I picked up a pack of pads and tampons, stuffing them under my arm as I went to the miscellaneous, seeing all the dusty products that looked outdated, straight from the 90s, until I spotted the last of my checklist.

I took the box of paper bags, examining the side for their dimensions, and found them to be almost perfect. It was a lucky find. Most were too small or too large. 

I took my goods to the front of the store as another person came in, waltzing past me and to the beer cooler. I spared them a curious glance. 

“Ah, I didn’t even see you there,” the man chuckled, turning around to the other man who came in, “oh! Shoot! And I didn’t see you—uh…”

I didn’t say anything as I looked up at him and he stared down at me and then at what I had.

“Miss?” He nervously stopped laughing, staring at me further. 

I don’t know whether he was scared or creeped out but eventually he did snap out of it and began to ring up my items, but his hesitancy never left. 

“Um, that’s going to be fourteen dollars and thirty seven cents, miss,” he couldn’t stop staring. Maybe he thought it was a prank or something. 

I dug into my coat, grabbing my coin purse and—

“Oh no,” my voice cracked. 

I completely forgot my wallet in my room after I put my suitcase in there. I almost felt like crying because I knew that the temporary toilet paper wad trick wasn’t going to work for the rest of the night, and I really needed those bags for tomorrow. 

“I-I left my wallet.” I felt so stupid and the man seemed to let up a lot upon hearing my voice. Maybe it comforted him to hear how fragile I was. 

“A-Ah… I don’t think I ever saw you around here… who’re you staying with, or passing through?” He asked, scratching the back of his neck, conflicted, and glancing at the clock, seeing it was four minutes till closing. “Do you need this tonight? I mean… I-I don’t know how women’s things work, but…”

“Hey,” the blond man that came in earlier came up, slapping down a twenty, “don’t sweat it, miss. I’ll cove you.” 

I bit my lip and drew my hood closer to my face. 

“T-Thanks,” I felt relief flood over me but I didn’t want him to get a closer look at my face. 

“No problem,” I could feel him leaning closer, trying to peek at me, but I moved away. “What’s your name, miss?” 

“Reiner!” The door opened as a boisterous, smaller boy came in, jumping about, soaked. “Hurry up, man! It doesn’t take this long to just grab a beer! The car is a junker—“the boy stopped upon seeing my face. 

His eyes widened, surprised. A flush went right across his cheeks. 

“Who’re you—“

“Thank you very much!” I didn’t wait for the man to even bag my stuff as I grabbed them and bolted out the door, racing down the street and into the alley, feeling my sneakers almost slip with every step, but they stayed true as I found myself breathless at my grandmother’s porch, gasping for air, and shaking, holding my stuff. 

I was completely drenched as I was bent over, trying to catch my breath. I leaned against the white plastered wall, feeling my sides hurt and ache as my lungs were on fire. My eyes squeezed shut as I tried to make myself calm down but I felt so stupid. 

So stupid. 

It took a minute for me to even stand up straight, groaning a bit as I went to the door, ready to soak in the tub and go to sleep. I could feel the stomach cramps coming after it all. 

But, I stopped completely.

The door was ajar. 

I was certain I had shut it when I left. 

“Gamma?” I called out, wondering if she wandered out to the porch. She probably heard me leaving and was worried. 

I glanced down the porch but I didn’t see her anywhere. 

I began to worry, thinking all sorts of things that could’ve happened to Grandma while I was gone. 

“Gamma?” I called out, quieter as I crept inside, closing and locking the door behind me as I clutched onto my purchases. 

I heard a grunt from the living room. 

I squinted my eyes as I took off my sneakers in the mudroom. 

“Dammit,” I whispered, unable to quickly get off my socks. I put my stuff down and sat down, peeling my soggy socks off and wiping my feet down with a nearby towel. I kept glancing over my back, afraid of what might be in the dark waiting. 

“Gamma?” I tried again but no answer. 

I was starting to get scared as I got up, creeping towards the living room and peering around the corner, hiding, but I saw nothing in the inky darkness. 

“Grandma?” I whispered. 

Nothing. 

My hand went out, blindly patting the wall around the corner until I felt the protrusion of the light switch. 

I was uncertain whether I actually wanted to see what may be inside, but I had to. 

For Grandma. 

I quickly flicked it and saw a tall stranger, staring right at me. 

Lighting flashed as the electricity went out. 

The roar of thunder deafened my screech as I fell backwards on my ass. 

The person had jolted upwards, hitting the coffee table, and fell to the ground with a thud, hissing, barely audible over the storm. 

Another streak of lighting and crash of thunder reignited the electricity as the lights blinked on, revealing the soaked intruder. They were curled in on themselves, holding their leg, cursing, and rocking themselves in pain. 

“Who are you!?” I demanded. 

Outside, it was getting worse and worse—I could hear the streets splashing with torrents of water. I even heard a yell of a man, alerting others that someone’s car was almost washing away.

“Who are you!?” I repeated, bolting upwards and grabbing the nearest thing towards me, holding it like a bat. 

“Nn,” the person stopped rocking as they shakily got up. 

Their clothes were more like mud now that I was really looking at them—there was even seaweed intertwined with their arms. 

I felt my guard drop. 

There was sand in every crease of their outfit. Clay and sediment was caked in the hood of their sweater as they got up, causing all of it to slop onto the floor in the giant, dirty puddle under them. 

The person turned—and, she was—she was there. 

The woman had dark skin but her lips were shivering, purple and blue. Her nose was red and there were deep, dark circles under her eyes, and her face was gaunt as if she had been missing a week of food. 

And—I dropped the umbrella in my hand—there was a crab that fell from her coat’s pocket, skittering on the floor angrily, and ducking under the couch. 

A piece of seaweed was weaved into her hair as she glared at me for a moment, but then I realized she was just adjusting her eyes to the light. 

“Who are you?” I begged, again, afraid, because it didn’t look like the storm was the cause of it. 

She looked like the ocean had spat her up from its darkest depths. 

Her eyes went downcast, her fingers twitched, and she glanced around, uncertain. 

“I-I don’t know.”


	2. The Mermaid's Lament

Water dropped from her wet hair, rolling down the wrinkle of her brow, and right through her eyebrows and onto her thick eyelashes. 

My eyes were entranced by how that drop was balanced and reflecting the warm bathroom light. With only a blink, it dropped into the hot water of the bath, and I was back on Earth and accidentally staring her right in her eyes, but she didn’t even seem to care. 

She was lost, as if something in her mind shut off. 

“You can undress in here,” I told her, waiting for her to respond, but all she did was stare down into the murkiness of the herbal bath. “I will throw a towel in the dryer for you and grab some clothes.”

Her mouth parted as a short, sharp inhale came from her as if she was startled. She finally peered over at me with sudden awareness. 

“I will try to find something that will fit you, okay?” I replied as I was getting uncomfortable. The storm was still raging outside and the cold draft from under the door was making the bathroom into a steamy wonderland. It was hard to breathe like this. I adjusted myself as the woman blinked. 

“You’re weird,” she finally spoke as I stopped, staring at her, and then turning around, ready to leave. 

“I will leave you alone. Tell me when you’re done.” I told her. 

“Ah… stay?” 

I looked over my shoulder, seeing her kneeling near the tub, and dipping her hand in the water, splashing it a bit. It was a lot like how a nervous cat might’ve acted. 

I didn’t understand why she’d want me in here. After all, I was a weirdo to her. 

A creep. 

“Wouldn’t you want privacy?” I replied. “You’re going to be naked and bathing. Not exactly something a stranger should see.” 

She stopped swatting at the water and pondered on what I said, but she shook her head. 

“I want to make sure I don’t disappear.” 

Disappear?

My frown deepened. 

“Why would you disappear?” I didn’t understand her logic, but, then again, she literally was a person who I just found in the middle of the night, invading our house—

“I’m scared I will,” she effortlessly responded, uncaring of whether she sounded insane or vulnerable, “and, if I’m about to, I would want someone to see.”

“You won’t. Water doesn’t work that way,” I said but the moment I did I realized the woman literally looked like the ocean vomited her up. Maybe she got swept away in a current when the storm hit? She didn’t look like a sailor with her black jacket and small jean shorts. “You’ll be fine.”

“You don’t know that.” She was attentive as she began to peel her coat off. With every movement more and more water sopped onto the floor. Every inch taken off caused sand, mud, and sediment to fall on the ground in a pile by her shaky, red feet. “It can happen…”

I brought my eyes from her cold toes and was met with her bare body facing the bath. I couldn’t help but push my gaze elsewhere, feeling it getting much more suffocating in the hot, humid bathroom. 

A loud crack of thunder shook the house as she paused, shaking. 

“…What’s your name?” I asked as she was still, buying time from getting into the tub. 

The woman breathed evenly, thinking, and then rolling her shoulders. 

“Ymir.” 

It was a strange name. The kind a foreigner would have.

“Ymir,” I thought of how I could go about this, but it didn’t really matter as long as I kept an eye on her, “I don’t know how you got here… but our bath is safe.”

My words didn’t budge her from whatever it was. Maybe she was scared and feared the water. Maybe she washed up from a shipwreck and was suffering from memory problems… 

“Hah,” she scoffed, the most animated she had been since I found her, “well, if I die, I guess that’s on you.” 

I learned Ymir was overly dramatic. After that it seemed that any worry was thrown to the wind as she put her foot in the water. She sharply hissed. 

“I don’t think it’s hot enough,” she remarked and I couldn’t help but smile. She glanced over her shoulder.  
“I can’t even tell if you think this is funny,” Ymir huffed, putting another foot in and cursing as she lowered herself into the tub. I felt like the hot water was thawing out whatever haze she had been. Her lips were regaining their flush and even her eyes were lighting up as she glanced around at all the bubbles. 

“These aren’t bad,” she mentioned, hoarding them around her like a dragon and its treasure. She kept gathering them until I made a sound. 

“What?” She blinked. 

“You should leave the ones down there,” I nodded towards the cluster of bubbles that covered her hips and lower. 

“Oh, what, to save my dignity?” She chuckled but fanned her fingers out, putting them up to show she had no intention of flashing me more than she already had. Eventually, she stopped her collecting her bubbles and began to relax. She even shut her eyes as if she was about to doze off. 

When she stopped paying attention to me I realized I hadn’t stopped watching her. She was weird and strange with how her clothes smelled like fish and fresh clay.

I didn’t know what unsettled me more—her amnesia or her naturally accepting nature? I was weird. Or, at least, my mother thought so…no… a lot of people thought so. Not just her. She just happened to be the most vocal one. 

“Hey,” Ymir pulled me out of my thoughts as I blinked, “I don’t know if you’re staring or what…” 

“Sorry,” I replied, quiet, and turning away, “I was thinking.”

Ymir didn’t stop looking at me. She kept watching me like she was analyzing every trait, every weakness that could be picked out. I was used to it—people often did that, testing whether they can put their finger on what was wrong with me exactly. Morbid curiosity transfixed with the need to assess people to their own moral standards. 

“What were you thinking about?” She asked. 

It didn’t seem spiteful. 

I was quiet for a moment, wondering how I could answer her question as normally as possible. I focused on the dripping of the tap as I mulled over my words. 

“I was… I was thinking about my mother… if she was here, she would’ve called the cops.” I didn’t know what else to say. 

“Ah, right, stranger danger in the home ranger,” Ymir was teasing me this time, but it wasn’t entirely bad. “Yeah… thanks for not doing that to me…”

She was looking and feeling a lot better, I think. 

“Do you… remember anything?” I had to ask because Grandmother would know soon enough. I wasn’t going to keep it from her. After all, what if this woman was a burglar and I was being deceived? 

Ymir cupped the water with her hands, gathering it and then releasing it, letting it splash in her disappearing bubbles. 

“I do. Some things. Stupid things.” Ymir answered. Not that it helped any to my deepening confusion. “But it doesn’t matter, I guess. You wouldn’t believe me. Hell… I don’t even believe what I remember.”

I couldn’t help but adjust the stool I was sitting on, turning it towards her and inching it forward just a little. It scraped along the tile until I sat upon it, facing her. 

“You’d be surprised what I will believe in,” I was skeptical but I couldn’t help and feel an inkling of companionship with this woman. 

She was weird and creepy, showing up on a dark and stormy night, invading my grandmother’s house, and then asking me to sit with her as she bathed because she was afraid the water would make her disappear. Her clothes were outlandish with slimy seaweed in its pockets and crusty salt deposits clinging to it, as if tonight was the night she peeled herself off the ocean floor.  


I understood her, or I really wanted to at least, because nobody really listened to me and I believed nobody would’ve have listened to her. If I met myself I’d listen, so, by that logic, it was normal for me to relate to her and listen… 

I think. 

“Hah,” Ymir’s eyelashes fluttered as condensation dripped into her eyes, “well, glad you’re sitting, because this is going to sound… stupid crazy.” 

I scoffed a little.

She laughed.

It echoed in the bathroom and it was soft and rough at the same time. It was something to remember her by. 

Gentle but strong. 

“Point taken,” she agreed, “I guess this will come… less strange, then.” 

Without warning, she pulled herself out of the bath and sat at the lip. 

All of the grime and gunk was off of her skin and I finally got to see that it was covered in freckles. Every inch of her was caught in it. Just like sand particles floating in the shallows of the beach. 

I changed my gaze to the walls and how the water was condensing on the limestone. I felt the heat of my blush as her next words sobered me. 

“I don’t know why but I have this feeling… this feeling, okay?” Her hands moved, talking more than her words ever could. “Like I woke up… from a really long sleep… that’s how I feel, right, but, here’s the kicker… I feel like this is just a nightmare. Maybe just a dream… or both, I don’t know… but you, this house, waking up – it feels like a dream….”

She stopped, licking her lips. 

“And, I just want to wake up.”

We really were alike.


	3. Promise of Rain

Surprisingly, I slept hard and quick. Having to travel most of the day away on a train and then having to spend most of the night up and helping Ymir really took a toll.

I had my eyes closed, feeling the late morning sun on my skin, the warmth causing me to squirm away from it— I felt a warm finger against my chin and I jolted awake, slapping the arm away. 

“Ouch!” Ymir clicked, drawing her finger into her mouth, sucking on it. “Watch it!” 

I found Ymir sitting at the edge of my bed. She had been leaning over me until I smacked her fingers away. Now, she was putting space between us, nursing her finger. 

“What were you trying to do?!” I gaped, adjusting my hair and face. Why was she even—

“You have pretty hair,” she unabashedly smiled with her finger still in her mouth. “I really like blondes. I just wanted to get a better look. That’s all.”

I held my jawline where her finger had been crawling. 

“You shouldn’t do that without asking,” I reprimanded her with a glare. 

“Says you,” Ymir popped her finger out of her mouth, gesturing her own head. 

“Now, can we get something to eat? I’m starving. I feel like I haven’t ate in years.” Ymir jumped up, comically sniffing the air with closed eyes. “I’ve been smelling bacon and eggs for the past ten minutes.”

Grandma.

I sat up and felt my stomach rumble—it really did smell good.

“Grandma doesn’t know you’re here,” I realized and shot a look at Ymir. Grandma was easy going but now that she was older her kindness was seen as vulnerability that people could take advantage of. Worse, that was what my mother staunchly believed, and she would throw a tantrum if she heard I invited a stranger into Grandma’s house without asking… 

“You live with your grandmother?” Ymir glanced towards the door of my room. “Well, that’s okay. I’ll just introduce myself!” 

She strode across the room, opening the door, and the smell of breakfast that wafted in on the morning breeze was so strong that I even heard my stomach growl. 

“Wait. Let me get ready.” I got up from the bed, feeling myself crinkle as I stretched. I itched my head as I went to the bathroom. 

I stopped in the doorway and looked over my shoulder - Ymir was right behind me.

“I should get ready, too, right?” Ymir asked, curious as I got to the door of the bathroom, barring her from entering. “Huh? What?”

“You can’t come in. I’m getting ready.” I reminded her. 

She clapped her hands together. 

“Oh! Right! Can I watch?”

All she got to watch was the door slam in her face. 

 

****

-x-x-x-

“I am sorry for invading your home last night!” Ymir was folded tightly against the floor in a pleading bow. “Please accept my apology for my rudeness!”

I hadn’t ever been witness to someone doing the dogeza before. Well, except on dramatic movies. 

Grandmother was sitting on her chair, absently glancing at the ground where she heard Ymir from. 

“Excuse me?” She sputtered with a giggle. 

“U-um, please!” Ymir crumpled further.

“Oh! Dear, hush, hush,” Grandma was laughing, waving away in the air, “I’m glad you came in rather than sat out in that awful storm. It was rather merciless, wasn’t it, Historia?” 

Her hand wandered towards my direction as I stepped forward, taking it, and squeezing it. I was grateful that she didn’t see any wrong in it but I also had to wonder if this was truly something she’d not mind or if she was too old to know better. 

“It really was, Gamma. I forgot how bad the storms got here,” I agreed, watching Ymir bring herself up out of her bow. 

She wasn’t a foreigner after all. Just strange. Only strange.

Ymir gave a sheepish smile as her eyes trailed to the kitchen where breakfast was waiting on the table. 

I felt my eyebrows raise at her. 

Was she being overly polite so she could score on some eggs and bacon?

“You must be awfully hungry,” Grandma sensed it like all grandparents could, “how about you join us for breakfast?” 

Ymir was more than happy to oblige as she ran into the kitchen, plopping down in a chair and waiting like an excited puppy about to go on a walk. 

Grandma giggled as she used my hand to guide herself back in the kitchen. I was completely unaware of it until I saw the burner still on. 

“Gamma!” I gasped, quickly releasing her hand and turning it off. 

How could I even forget!?

“You’re not supposed to cook! You could get hurt… you can’t see how you used to!” I felt guilt roll in my stomach as the hairs on the back of my neck stood. 

I was so irresponsible. I could almost hear Mother screeching and slamming something. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” Grandma cooed, “I may be going blind but until then I will do what I can! I won’t go starting the day without feeding my grandbaby.” 

Without me, Grandma sat down in a chair, hearing Ymir’s cutlery scrape as she loaded up her plate. 

“Oh, also, Ymir, dear, I fed your pet,” Grandma smiled, reaching over with a shaky hand and taking a small piece of bacon. “They were pretty skittish but once I put food down they were satisfied.”

Ymir stabbed an egg and stuffed it in her mouth as yolk oozed down her chin and on the shirt she was borrowing. She chewed as her eyebrows knitted together thoughtfully. 

“My pet?” she wondered. 

“Why, yes, he’s over on the deck. I gave him some water, too,” Grandma nodded, cutting up her bacon with a knife, “Historia, if you’d be so kind, would you make sure he’s alright? I did this very early…” 

“Yes, Gamma,” I gave Ymir a curious glance as I went to the front door and opened it, peeking out on the deck. 

Sure enough, there was a bowl of scraps of old lettuce, egg shells, and some chicken. Right by it was the bowl of water and—

I snorted, staring at the little crab that was bathing itself in the water. Its pincher had a piece of lettuce as it held still, cautious of me. 

I looked away and took in a good view of outside—there were tree branches strewn about everywhere in the yard and in the koi pond. The ground was wet with mud and puddles. I could hear the very distant sound of people hollering and the incessant rev of a chainsaw cutting through a fallen tree. I peered over the stone fence and saw another storm approaching. 

I could even feel it on the wind as it whispered and promised the beginning of the rainy season. 

Wait.

Right there.

I sniffed the air.

I swore I thought I smelled nectarines...

I smiled and pulled away, closing the door behind me and returned to Grandma. Ymir had nearly inhaled all of her food and was reaching for more.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” Ymir mindfully asked, stealing the last piece of bacon without shame. 

“I’m not too hungry. You can have one of the eggs, too.” I sat down, bringing my plate close to the egg platter and sliding one over onto my dish. Ymir skillfully speared it and shoved it into her mouth, relishing every piece.

“Your pet is fine, by the way,” I commented, smiling as I poked my egg, watching the yolk bleed out. “He seems to be enjoying the lettuce and water.” 

“Oh, that’s good, I wasn’t sure what he was.” Grandma chimed in. “I could only hear him scuttling under the fridge. Figured the poor thing was hungry.”

I giggled at Grandma’s kindness. 

Ymir just gave me a suspicious look, sucking her fork for remaining yolk and bacon residue. 

“You can give him the leftover bacon grease,” Grandma suggested, “he might like that to flavor his food. Fatten him up!” 

But Ymir stayed at the table, glancing between me and Grandma until Grandma got up.

“Time for me to watch my soaps,” she grinned. “I’m really excited to see what Kimiko will do now that Sosuke moved away.” 

I got up to help her but she held up a hand. 

“It’s okay, dear, it’s easy to get back to my sewing room. You enjoy your time with your friend,” she assured, pattering away. 

Ymir was quiet until the moment Gamma closed her door. 

“Are you going to pick at your food all day?” Ymir asked intently. I frowned, staring down at my egg. 

“I’m not hungry. Did you want it?” I asked, pushing my plate towards her. She exhaled with disappointment as she took it and devoured it in seconds. 

“Does your Grandma even know?” Ymir asked. 

“Know what?” I responded a little too fast. Scared.

Ymir vaguely gestured to me with a grunt. 

I tensed up.

And then I just chuckled. Tired. 

“No. It isn’t her concern.” It was because she was family, but I’d rather didn’t. 

“It is, though,” Ymir argued, pointing her fork at me. “It isn’t right—“

“Why?” I shot back. “Because it’s not normal?”

Ymir lowered her fork, studying me.

“It’s weird, I know, but it isn’t hurting anyone,” I defended myself. I hoped Ymir would leave once she had her fill. It seemed like her memories were returning. 

“But it’s hurting you, isn’t it?” Her words pierced me in the same way my previous therapist’s words did. Before he suggested I visited Mrs. Zoe. 

“How about we get you help,” I offered like my old therapist did, because I was out of his expertise, “I know someone who can help you find out what happened.” 

“Really?” Ymir might’ve not been fooled but at least she was more worried about herself. “Who is this know-it-all?”

“She’s a psychiatrist, Doctor Hanji Zoe.” I got up, ready to drop Ymir off and out of my hair. Last thing I needed was someone to question all my problems every day. 

“Eh…” Ymir didn’t seem persuaded. 

“She’s my doctor now. To help me with…my problems.” I added to show that I had some confidence in the woman. 

This seemed to be the tipping point of Ymir agreeing with me as she got up, shrugging. 

“I mean, if she can help you and your weird stuff,” she pointed at me as I felt my heart drop. “Then, she can help my weird ass, too.”


	4. Paper Bags

“It’s raining,” Ymir was lounging in the empty bath tub, flicking a green leaf between her fingers. “Do you like the rain?”

“I do,” I was in front of the mirror, buttoning up my blouse and wondering if I should brush my hair. It seemed okay from what I could see. 

“Really? I thought you wouldn’t because it’d ruin your face,” she snickered, motioning and gesturing away, “wouldn’t it feel gross with all that stuff?” 

“It does feel gross,” it felt weird to talk about it. Most people avoided the conversation because it was so bizarre. “But the rain is relaxing, isn’t it?” 

Ymir hummed as she lulled her head back, staring up at the window that was ajar behind her. The rolling thunder and rain pummeling the water pail outside was loud within the bathroom, but it wasn’t bad. It sounded alive—it made me feel alive because I knew with all the storms the trees and grass and leaves will be the most vibrant green I’d ever see, and the irises and hydrangeas would smell prettier than any perfume Mother ever bought. 

It’d sweep away any debris and sticks spring’s showers and winds brought and make the forest nearby beautiful, ready for early autumn walks without a care in the world. 

These thoughts only reminded me how much I had missed Grandmother’s house. Back then, Papa was alive and would bring me everywhere, telling me about America and show me how to make nectarine jelly. 

Hah.

No matter where I searched, no matter how deep I went into Farmer’s Markets, nothing ever compared to Papa’s jelly. Made with love, something very rare and hard to find, Grandma would say. 

“Ah, so you can smile,” Ymir was smiling and stretching as she adjusted her position in the tub, “I can tell because of your eyes. It reached your eyes—the best kind of smiles.” 

I brought my hand up and slipped it onto my face, touching my cheek and feeling the smile itself. I didn’t savor it because I wasn’t that sad before. Just tired. Awfully exhausted all the time. The feel of my taut cheek made me think of tart green apples dunked into caramel. 

“Of course I can smile,” I retorted, pulling my hand out and leaving the bathroom. I heard Ymir struggle and protest until she dislodged herself from the tub and came jogging out and catching up with me. “Everyone can smile.” 

“Mm yeah but your smile—I want to see it more often. I’m sure it looks pretty.” Ymir mentioned, leaning down a bit to try and take a peek at my face. I rolled my eyes at her. She was very casual about these sort of things. I had to wonder if she just didn’t care or if she was this accepting of people. 

“Historia?” Grandma was out on the couch by now. She was sitting and listening to an audio book, knitting a small blanket. “Ah, there you are, you’re leaving right? For your appointment?” 

“Yes,” I came over to her and put my hand on her shoulder, squeezing it lightly. She stopped what she was doing and took my hand in hers, patting it. 

“Good girl. Now, you got a rain coat, right?” She asked. 

Ymir was peering over Grandma’s yarn bowl, seeing something wiggling inside until the infamous crab from before popped out of it, playing with the strawberry pin cushion. 

“Mm, no, I don’t, but I have other coats,” I told her and she shook her head. 

“That won’t do. I have a rain coat in the closet, dear. Please, take it. I will worry if you don’t. I can’t tell your mom I got you sick by letting you walk in the rain with a small coat!” She fussed and glanced in the general direction of Ymir. 

“Ymir? Don’t you have a coat?” She asked with worry. 

“Um,” Ymir gave me a strained look, “no… I don’t think so.” 

“Ah!” She cried! “Your family must be worried sick, knowing its rainy season and you’re without! Here, in the closet over there, John’s rain coat should still be in there. It might be very big on you but it’ll have to do.”

I went over to the closet with Ymir trailing behind me and opened it to find Papa’s coats still inside. I sorted through until I found the large yellow coats neglected in the farthest corner. 

“You’re just like your Grandfather, Historia, saying no rain would hurt. The ol’ thing thought he was so strong until he got a tiny fever and then, oh, he would cry and act like he was dying! I hope you’re strong like me, dear, and can kick a cold.” Grandmother laughed, clapping her hands together. 

“Oh! Also, Ymir,” Grandma began and I giggled at Ymir’s expense because Grandma was a big talker when she could, “I hope you don’t mind me keeping your pet crab here with me. I worry he’d get cold or eaten? He’s just in here with me so don’t worry. He seems to like my balls of yarn! Do crabs eat yarn?” 

“I’m not sure?” Ymir smiled. “But I think he’s happy, too, ma’am.” 

“Of course, of course,” Grandma agreed but I had to cut her off before she got carried away. 

“Gamma,” I reminded, “me and Ymir are going to go to my appointment and do some errands.” 

Grandma was quiet for a moment before laughing more. 

“Oh my! I just talked Ymir’s ear off! My, my, yes, go, go, shoo! Off to do important things before you really get me started!” She covered her mouth with her fingers, waving at us with her free hand. 

Ymir slipped into the coat but it wasn’t as large as I thought it would have been. Papa was a tall man yet Ymir must’ve been just as tall if not more if she could fit his coat so snuggly. 

“Perfect fit,” Ymir remarked and caused Grandma to gasp. 

“Truly? You must be a giant Ymir! Oh, how nice it must be to reach the top shelves!” She lamented her envy and Ymir chuckled. 

“If you ever need help with cleaning high places, just ask,” she suggested and I knew Grandma would take her up on that offer eventually. After all, Grandmother’s genes were the ones that cursed me to such a small existence. 

“We’re off, Gamma,” I called out to her and opened the door, shoving Ymir through it first and finally getting out. 

“What?” Ymir snickered. “Didn’t like me getting so cozy with your grandma? Maybe she’ll adopt me, too.” 

“Adopt you, too?” I asked, drawing the rain jacket hood over my head, and lifting a bare hand to the rain beyond the porch roof. The water was warm and it still brought the scent of the ocean with it, too. 

“Yeah, aren’t you adopted?” Ymir asked, curious. “You two look nothing alike.” 

I snorted as I descended the steps and onto the front yard and walking down the path to the gate. 

“We’re blood related,” I told her, “Papa was an American.” 

“Oh? Well, that says a lot about your hair and eyes, then,” Ymir remarked, jumping off the porch and tagging along. She even held open the gate with a wink. I could hardly see the relation between last night Ymir and today’s Ymir. 

“That must’ve been hard,” Ymir said, glancing at the destruction of last night’s storm. There were tree branches collected in piles in the ditch as we went up the hill. The clinic was built on the very top of it with the small resort and a few restaurants. Only one large office building rose higher than the tree line and was made up of several small companies for every floor. 

Papa used to work in there to keep records and payments of clientele who purchased firewood for the coming winters. When it was late summer and fall, though, he was always gone in the forest with his friends, chopping wood until the late hours. 

Sometimes Papa brought me and Grandma along. We would go pick berries, flowers, roots, and mushrooms while him and his crew stayed in the lumber area. 

When I looked at Ymir, seeing her wearing his raincoat, it made me miss him a lot. I often wondered why it didn’t hurt so badly when he left. Maybe it was because it had been long ago and that I was busy with school and Father, but, another part of me was whether I had loved Papa at all… 

“Historia?” Ymir pulled me out of my thoughts. 

“Hm?”

“You’re really bad at listening,” she whined, huffing, “I said it must’ve been hard, right? Looking like a foreigner and stuff?” 

“I could say the same,” I jabbed back at her and Ymir shrugged. 

“I wouldn’t know. I have no memory, remember?” Ymir clicked her tongue. “Next time, if it’s a touchy subject, just say it? Don’t have to be a dick about it.” 

I felt my cheeks redden, realizing that I was being sort of mean. It was just hard to stand there and have someone pick at you like a five year old with blunt questions. 

“Sorry,” I mumbled. 

“Eh, it’s fine,” she shrugged, “I guess what I asked wasn’t exactly something Jane Austen would approve of.” 

“Jane Austen?” I snorted. “Like the author?” 

“Huh? Who?” Ymir was confused until she realized what she had said earlier. “Wait, I said something about someone? A writer?” 

“You don’t know who that is? Well, yeah, a writer… maybe you have some memories still in you?” I wondered because it was interesting and mysterious. If we were talking about books then Ymir’s would be a murder mystery or about investigations since she was an unknown person with a forgotten past. 

What would mine be, then? (A/N: A badly written fanfiction)

“Hm. Maybe! And your doctor would be help that, right?” Ymir seemed to be optimistic about it. She pondered comically with a hand scratching her chin. 

“I wonder if I was an alien or some hero who jumped through time?” She loudly fantasized. I shook my head. 

“Most unlikely. You chose a weird place and time to come here.”

“Yeah, that’s true, but I got a strange and equally interesting side-kick out of it, though. Hm. You need a name…”

“It’s Historia, I don’t need another. Thank you.” I assured her because God only knew what awful thing she’d think of next. 

“You will be called Blondie Pants McGarbage Head.” Ymir announced and I exhaled. 

“And you’re Captain Asshole, renowned for their power of free speech.” I replied. Ymir nodded. 

“Indeed!” 

I swatted her into her tummy and she coughed, billowing out a bark of a laugh as we trekked further and further up the hill until we finally reached the clinic’s doors. It was surprisingly humble given Dr. Hanji’s popularity and success. 

“Doesn’t look promising,” Ymir didn’t care whether she said it loud or not, “you sure she can even help you?” 

That made me awful. 

Really awful.

But I smiled even if she couldn’t see it. 

“Father says she could. So, I have to try,” I told her, opening the glass doors and walking in. Ymir came inside, too, despite her skepticism. 

“Good morning! Welcome to—“ the blond haired boy behind the counter was surprised as his eyes went wide. 

I felt my blood run cold. 

“I apologize,” he recovered, “welcome to the clinic! May I sign you in for a scheduled appointment?” 

I nodded weakly and walked up to the counter, feeling my hands shake as he handed me a clipboard with a form. 

“Just sign here and here, please,” his eyes were searching, glued to my face, and only it. He was devouring my mask and trying to peel it back to see me—to see what sort of fucked up person I was to be wearing such things. 

“Thank you very much,” his eyes still didn’t leave, “ please, have a seat here, and we have a coat rack over there if you please.” 

Ymir pulled me along to the coat racks and got out of her soaked coat. She didn’t give me the time to recover as the blond boy took the clipboard and disappeared through a door.

“Who is he?” She didn’t seem impressed with him. 

“He’s my cousin…” one I had seen in a very long time and one that I didn’t want to see. Last thing I wanted was to uncover my mom’s secret and expose myself for who I truly was. 

“Yeah? Well, he shouldn’t be a jerk about it,” Ymir’s deft fingers unbuttoned my coat for me and I helped her take it off of me. “I don’t want your fingers wet. It’d ruin your… y’know.” 

She gestured again and I nodded.

“Yeah, thanks,” but it was barely appreciated. I just kept worrying now that Armin knew who I was. I wrote my name down after all. 

I brought my hands up to my face, rubbing at it, but all it did was make it feel damp and scratchy. 

I didn’t even have time to think it over as the doctor’s door opened with a slam and a joyous woman appeared before it. 

“Miss Historia Reiss! Hello! Would you like to come inside so we may begin our chit chat?” Dr. Hanji bellowed like she was giving a speech. 

Ymir shot me a dubious look. 

“Of course,” I got up. I was going to leave until Ymir took my hand and forced me to look at her. 

“What about me?” She whispered as her eyes darted around. As if she was scared. 

“I will ask for you, but this is my appointment,” I assured her. “You have to stay outside.”

“What? Why? Can’t I just come with you?” She hissed. 

Dr. Hanji cleared her throat, tapping the door impatiently. 

“No… this is for me only.” I didn’t have to say it for her to understand that I didn’t trust her knowing my life. She didn’t seem hurt but she did seem bothered as she let me go and crossed her arms and slopped herself into a chair, pouting. 

I was ushered into the spacious office and was sat down as Dr. Hanji leapt into her chair. 

“So! You seem interesting to talk to, Miss Reiss. Now, I understand from what your father has said about your predicament, and, I would like to ask—will you please take off your mask?” 

In here, I was an animal for her to dissect and see how I worked. I was the subject of treatments and testing. 

So, things such as my psych and comfort didn’t matter to her, I knew. I just had to obey and let her take care of me. 

I brought my hands up and slid the crinkled mask off as Hanji closed her eyes with her smile intact. 

“I won’t look unless I have your permission.” She told me. 

It was strange for her to ask because we both knew she’d have to look one day anyway. 

I stared down, watching my hands move as I placed the paper bag onto her table—my little mask—mesmerized by its vacant eye holes and seeing the dampness where my mouth was located. 

Without it, I felt like my paper bag mask—breaking apart and melting underneath the torrents of rain that began to crash in the outside world. 

“Yes. You can look.”

  



	5. Cold Bones

The doctor reopened her eyes and steadily gazed at me. 

“Would you like to hear my opinion?” Hanji asked with her sincere smile. 

“No. I don’t.” I had heard it all before but it didn’t mean anything now. My face had nothing to do with the person I was, or, at least, I believed that just to pity myself some sanity. 

“That’s okay for our first session,” Hanji didn’t linger on the subject as she pulled a heft file from her desk drawer. “Your previous doctor has faxed me your records and I’d love to listen to your story when we have the time for it. Today, we have to do paperwork and testing so I can understand how you think and see this world.” 

The rest of whatever she said drowned out like static—then to the hush of the rain and waves crashing on the ocean shore. I could watch her lips move as she guided me through the paperwork, but I didn’t really understand her. 

This place felt foreign. 

Why was I even out here at grandmother’s?

Was it really because my father made a compromise with my mother to treat my mental health, or was it because he paid her off? 

It was hard to care when most of the problems were outside forces. Coping didn’t make the solution come any quicker. 

Hanji asked questions and I did answer but I wasn’t really there. I didn’t feel good enough to be here. Not as an expression of worth but an expression of anxiety and discomfort. My eyes kept wandering to the paper bag that stared right back at me, as if it was questioning what comfort it actually brought. 

The initial appointment felt drawn out but the moment I signed off on the last paper I felt great ease as Hanji glanced over my work and nodded, pushing my paper bag back at me. 

“You can wear this whenever you want,” Hanji spoke up. “When we meet up, I’d like to see more of your face, but if it causes great distress then I’d rather you wear it for now. Does that sound good?”

I took the bag, noticing that some of the seams were coming undone. A side was torn where Ymir had fiddled with it, too. 

“May I borrow scissors?” I asked and Hanji gave them over without words as I went to her trashcan in the corner. I pulled out an extra mask and began to make the eye holes, feeling my body relax with every snip of the scissors. 

“You carry extra around with you? How thoughtful.” She remarked, watching. I didn’t really care now that I knew I’d be leaving and had something fresh on me. 

“Say, how do you keep the rain and humidity from ruining it?” Hanji was quite curious of it. I never really had anyone ask about it except Ymir. 

Right. 

She was waiting for me. 

“Deep, calm breaths,” I explained, “and, making sure I prepared for the day. I usually don’t go outside often during the day.”

“Understandable,” Hanji nodded, processing the information. She stood up to escort me outside her office but stopped near her door. Her face was thoughtful and I could see the gears of her mind working before she spoke. 

“If you don’t go outside often during the day,” she hypothesized, “then, you don’t socialize often. Do you miss it?”

It was an easy answer. 

“Not at all.” I waited as she gave a curt nod, opening the door with a pleased smile. 

“I will be seeing you, Miss Reiss! It was a pleasure and we will be scheduled the same time tomorrow! Talk to Armin at the counter for a card if you need a reminder,” she waved as I scooted out, avoiding glancing at Armin’s direction. Whether he snooped over my folder or not, he knew now. 

I heard Hanji close her door and I was left with only the pouring of the rain outside. I could even hear the building groan every now and then as a rush of wind overtook the trees outside, forcing them to practically bend at its monstrous will. 

“Hey, Historia,” I heard Armin’s voice call out. I could hear every octave of uncertainty and awkwardness in his voice. I could feel how much courage it took him to say it as if he rehearsed it for the hour I was inside Hanji’s office. 

And it pissed me off. 

I hated it. 

I ignored him as I went to the seating area where Ymir had been but she wasn’t there. 

I stopped and felt my eyes flick to the coat rack. Both of our coats were there with small puddles underneath them. 

“Oh, um,” I heard Armin clumsily shoot around the front desk, stopping near me. Why was he even getting close to me? I didn’t want him by me. I didn’t even want him to acknowledge me. I felt myself clench my jaw. “Y-your friend went outside… she—uh, she didn’t take her coat and I tried to get her to, but… she didn’t hear me… um, I don’t know if there was an emergency, but I could call Reiner if you’d like?”

His Japanese was near impeccable with little to no accent, but his lack of honorifics gave him away as a foreigner. 

“Thank you. I will look for her.” I felt worry crawl up my spine as I remembered last night and how Ymir was in our living room, soaked, covered with sand, clay, seaweed, and shells, but it was the look of loss and fear in her eyes that scared me. She reminded me of a lost child, or, worse, an abandoned one. 

I left him and yanked my coat off the rack, taking Ymir’s too, and quickly threw it on and shoved the doors open. To my surprise, I almost felt myself recoil from the gales of wind and torrents of rain. I heard the crack of thunder in the distance, or was it a tree falling? 

“Historia! The storm is really awful! Don’t take the—“the door slammed shut behind me as the raincoat whipped and snapped at my skin. Ymir’s coat felt heavy as it struggled in my grasp, begging to take flight like all the leaves that shot through the air. 

I could barely keep my eyes open as I shielded them, glancing to and fro, trying to find any trace of Ymir, but I could barely see ahead of me. There was gray walls of rain all around me and my senses were drowned by the screaming of the storm that whistled into the core of my being. 

“Ymir!” I called out but the rain was ripping away my mask. I could feel it sticking to my skin and tearing with every breath I took. I bent over, forcing myself to trudge through the downpour towards the forest trail. 

It was stupid. I knew. Papa had always told me that a forest was not safe during a storm, but where else would have Ymir gone? She didn’t know the area. She didn’t even know herself… and she was alone. 

“Ymir!” I yelled but the mask stuck to my tongue and mouth and I couldn’t stop my aggravated hands from clawing the mask off and throwing it to the devouring air. “Ymir! Where are you?”

I had no sense of why I was endangering myself for her. Why it mattered I found her at all when I had only known her for a day. 

Maybe I really was that suicidal and just wanted a poor excuse to die. 

_If you don’t go outside often during the day, then, you don’t socialize often. Do you miss it?_

I steeled myself and ran into the forest. All around me I heard the pained cries of the trees as their bark split as they bent to Nature’s power. The wind was blocked in here but branches snapped and fell, crushing anything below them, and whatever little strength the forest had was at mercy. Its protection was not strong enough for this. 

I rushed down the path, approaching the decline of the hill that led down to the town and to Grandma’s, but the mud gave way under my feet and I slipped off the trail and down the thorny side of the hill. 

The raincoat was all I had as I felt my clothing and skin tear with every roll. My hands hopelessly groped out for any outcropping to stop my descent but was only rewards with briars. I couldn’t tell my orientation as the world was a blur until I felt my leg slam against an unmoving object, shooting pain up my side as I screamed in pain. It had stopped my rolling but the grass underneath me was so slick that I felt myself slump against the boulder before me, slowly sliding to the side of it and trickling down the hill like the rainwater. 

The whole world spun as I laid there, rain pelting into my eyes, and my mouth agape with a foreign whining sound. 

The trees violently thrashed above me as I could finally see the sky again and its ominous gloom.   
The mud under me was seeping through the holes of my coat and my clothes. 

The cry came again from my mouth as my leg felt like it was on fire and throbbing. My fingers twitched as I dug my nails in the mud, trying to will myself up, but everything hurt so badly. I attempted to move my good leg and I felt it respond weakly. 

This was bad.

Where was I?

The forest, I knew, but where? Somewhere that someone could find me? 

I shivered as the rain would not let up. I had to keep my eyes shut. 

“Y-Ymir,” I cried out. She’d be the only one out here. “Y-Ymir! Help me!”

I waited. 

I waited for countless minutes. I called out for her every time I could muster the strength but it got weaker every time as I felt my tongue growing heavy. 

I must’ve broke my leg. 

I was weak as it was from not eating for over four days. Only because my mom made a comment that I was a cow. 

“Y-Ymir,” I whispered as some part of me hoped she’d save me like how I did her, but life wasn’t like that. 

I clenched my teeth, straining with all my might as I felt my muscles scream at me. I used my core to haul myself up as I felt hot tears roll down my cheeks. Everything fucking hurt. My ribcage felt like it got slammed in as my arm shot out, holding my stomach, and I coughed. 

My eyes were blurry from all the rain getting in them, but I could see I was a mess. There was mud and twigs and leaves all over me. I could barely register that there was even some blood on my raincoat. I tried my best to assess were but, fuck, it was so cold. 

So fucking cold.

It felt like there was ice growing in my bones, lacing my veins with their frost. 

I just wanted to be warm. 

I held myself, forcing all my will to not fall back over where I was laying. It was so much better than feeling all this at once, but I just kept remembering Papa’s words. 

Don’t stay in the rain or you can get hypothermia. 

Find somewhere warm. 

If you’re lost, find a shelter. Worry about—worry about…?

I shifted my weight forward and had to put a hand out to stop myself from slumping over. 

“Ymir,” I knew she wasn’t here but maybe she’d hear me. She could help me… 

I moved my good leg again, bringing it to my chest and trying to put all my weight on it. In one stumbling motion, I got onto my foot, wincing as my other leg protested all the way. 

I was wobbling as my orientation was so fucked. 

But, because I was standing now, I could finally see through the tree lines a nearby glow. 

I squinted as I went towards it and almost fell again. I had to throw myself against the trees to keep my balance as I got closer and closer until I saw what that glowing light really was—the small shrine. 

I was really out of the way, then. It’d take a five minute walk to just get on the main road from here. 

It’d be impossible. 

The light in the shrine meant that someone was there, though. Maybe they were stuck out in the rain, too, and that they’d have a cellphone to call for help. 

I felt my stomach churn and I nearly dry heaved. I was still so dizzy. 

I staggered forward, ignoring the thorns in the bushes as I clawed my way through and onto the muddy path of the shrines. Its doors were ajar and I could see the promise of the lit candles inside. 

It’d be so warm. 

I pushed past the rest of my pain as I heaved myself up the stairs, crying out as I grasped the railing and tumbled onto the deck. With what little strength I had left, I threw myself at the doors and fell inside with a thud. 

I had nothing left to give now. 

“H-Historia?” 

I saw yellow boots approach me as my vision was blurry again. 

“Oh God,” dark hands came down, grabbing me by my arms and dragging me in closer to the little warmth of the candles. “What the fuck happened? Historia? Historia, speak to me…”

“Y-Ymir…” 

“Sh, sh, sh, fuck,” Ymir’s hand went to my face and felt my cheek and forehead. “You’re so fucking cold!” 

She was so warm. 

I couldn’t help myself as I tried to cling to her. 

“No! Wait!” She hissed but she was gentle as she held my wrists. I didn’t have the strength to overpower her otherwise. “You’re soaked. It isn’t going to help you or me if we’re both dying from the cold.” 

“I-I’m so cold,” I told her, trying to get her to touch me again, “I—I feel like my bones… are made of ice…Y-Ymir…”

“Fuck,” I was left on the ground as Ymir stared, hands hovering above me, “Historia, you’re just going to have to trust me, okay?”

“T-Touch me,” I begged and I saw her recoil at that. 

“Don’t be so stupid.” She hushed as she quickly made work of the buttons of my coat. A light blush was on her face as she glared at me. 

“D-don’t be so stupid,” she repeated as she carefully took off my coat. 

I was so cold and tired as I brought my bloodied hand to her hand. She stopped entirely. 

“You’re so warm,” she gave me a sense of comfort to know I could feel warmth again. 

It made me feel so alone.


	6. You Left Me

The rain was still there when I woke, but the coldness had left. I didn’t want to open my eyes and face the world. The hardwood under my body was somehow comfortable as I rolled my shoulder, feeling warm, large fabric on me. 

My fingertips were growing numb, though. They were holding the fabric close to my breast as I adjusted, searching out for more covers, but felt the burning skin of a stranger. 

“Ah!” The woman hissed and flinched out of my touch as my eyes shot open and I was reminded I was in the small shrine. 

Ymir was standing with her arms crossed, staring down at me. Dusk had fallen long ago, casting darkness inside that was whittled away by the low candles. In the candlelight, I wasn’t sure what I saw but my eyes made out the outlines of her bare skin. I saw the goosebumps on her arms and how they ran up and down her stomach, but my eyes were caught on her chest. Despite having her arms crossed, she didn’t hide herself. Her chest was small but not as small as mine. They were pushed up by her crossed arms and my eyes were stuck the moment I saw her nipples. 

I barely noticed her shifting, uncertain what I was thinking, as my eyes were focused. 

They were dark and larger than mine… I absently touched my own chest. It was like someone dumped hot water down my back and chased it with cold. 

I knew that feeling but I bit back whatever I could as I dropped my eyes. 

“How’re you feeling?” Ymir finally asked, shifting her weight onto another foot. I couldn’t see the blush in the darkness. I knew I was but it was cold, too. 

“I’m—“I stopped. 

My leg wasn’t aching. 

I threw off the coat that was draped over me and—

“I—“I was naked. I only had that coat over me and an oversized shirt—Ymir’s shirt that I lent her. 

Ymir exhaled loudly and I shot her a look as she hurriedly glanced away, giving me my privacy. 

“A bit late for that,” I dryly muttered, “I had to get this way somehow, and I sure don’t remember doing it myself.” 

“Tch,” she was annoyed, “you act like you never asked me to touch you and hold you.”

I felt my jaw clench as I glared at her. 

“I was going to die of hypothermia!” 

“Oh jeez, you’re overdramatic,” Ymir sneered. What was getting into her? “And, by the way, before you get carried away AGAIN, your damn leg is fine. It wasn’t even broken. Not even a bruise.” 

What?

I gave her a stern look before glancing at my leg and… I was surprised. She was right. There wasn’t even a mark on it. 

“I—I fell, a-and—“ 

“I know,” Ymir was more gentle this time, rubbing the back of her neck and looking at me again, “you said that when I got you changed out of your clothes.” She nodded towards the candles and I peered over to find my clothes drying, but I could still see a drip of water fall from my pants. 

“I…”I felt embarrassed without my mask. I felt suddenly very vulnerable. 

“It’s a bit too late to get shy,” Ymir mentioned, sitting down and pressing her back against the wall. She gave us a generous amount of space. “I saw most of everything…”

My eyes were back at her chest. Why wouldn’t she cover herself up? 

“Y’know,” she began and I gave her a warning look, “for seeming like you don’t give a fuck about others, you sure do keep…y’know… _that_ place pretty well—“

“Shut up.” I felt my face turn red as I wanted to glare right into her eyes, but she wouldn’t look me in the face. She kept her eyes everywhere but there. 

“Stop looking at my body,” I defensively shot as I grabbed the coat and put it over my lap. “You’re being perverted.”

“Well,” Ymir huffed, staring down at the floorboards, “I know you don’t want me to look at your face… so…”

Ah. 

I frowned. 

“Right.” I muttered as I felt like I had to eat my own words. Ymir was actually trying to be civil… since I wouldn’t really want her to see my face…

“If it’s anything,” Ymir sighed, “I didn’t get a good look of it. It’s dark in here and I, uh, made it where you aren’t in the candle light too much… alright? So, can you stop being mad? You act like I didn’t save your ass… you can at least be grateful…” 

I brought my knees up to my chest, hiding my face into their sharp edges. 

“Thanks.”

Ymir made a throaty sound. 

“That ain’t helping,” she replied. 

“What’s not helping?” I replied, tired, and wondering how long we’d have to stick in here till my clothes were dry enough to head out. I absently listened to the storm outside and found only the soothing sound of rain. The worst of the wind had long passed. 

“I can see your… hm…” she drawled on and I immediately snapped into a different position. 

“Stop looking at it!” 

“S-sorry!” Ymir shot her hands up as I fumed at her. “It’s hard not to!”

“God, you’re so… just—ugh!”

Ymir couldn’t stop the little snicker. I didn’t want to keep thinking about it because it was making me feel anxious. Not in a good way. 

“So, you didn’t see my face?” I asked. Quietly. I was afraid she’d hear how embarrassed I was—the kind of nervousness people get when they’re feeling a certain way. 

“No.” Ymir wiped the smirk off her face and was back to being serious. “I know you don’t like people seeing it… why would I look?” 

Yet she looked at my intimate areas… 

“I see.”

“I don’t know why you hide your face, though,” her voice was soft, too. Just like the rain pattering on the roof’s coping stones. 

“Nn.” I blankly responded. Even though, at this moment in time, I felt like I could tell her, it was just too much to explain.   
“Are you really ugly?” She deadpanned. “If so, that’s a stupid reason.” 

“No!” I blurted and nearly throwing the coat in anger at her. 

“Okay,” Ymir crossed her legs, “obviously, you have an ego.”

“Eh?”

“You said, no, you’re not ugly, so, you believe you’re pretty. You have the ego to protest you’re ugly. So, y’know, you got some pride at least.”

“When you put it like that…”

“I don’t mean for it to sound bad. Pride and ego can be good.” Ymir explained. “But, it’s hard to judge when I can’t see your face…”

“Jeez,” I felt a breathy chuckle escape my lips, “you really want to see…”

A lot of people were curious at what kind of strange person lived behind my paper bags. I guess it wasn’t wrong of them to be morbidly interested. 

“I do because I want to know why you’re so ashamed of people seeing your face.” She remarked and I tensed up, surprised at her response. 

It wasn’t to see what freak show was behind. It wasn’t even to satiate her curiosity. It was to see why. She wanted to know why I felt so strongly. 

“Ah,” I wondered if this was something I wanted to hear from the beginning. It felt right to hear it. It made me feel… indescribable. 

“Obviously, you’re not g—“

“Here,” I put the coat to the side and crawled over to her—still shocked my leg was fine. Was it just a shitty dream? I always heard of people imagining things but I never thought I’d be like that…

Ymir’s face went crimson as I came into the candlelight as she stared into my eyes. I couldn’t tell what she saw but she wasn’t disgusted. 

How many times did I expect a sneer when I showed my face? How did I know she wouldn’t do the same…

Her hand came up and her slender fingers took hold of a lock of my hair. She held it as she ran her fingers over it, observing it, and then she released it as her eyes drank me in. 

She was lost. 

“Huh,” she whispered. 

I felt myself freeze, afraid, wondering… if she’d kiss me with how close she was now…

“Y’know,” her fingers came back up, hesitating near my cheek as she touched my skin. Her skin was so soft. 

“You’re a bit ugly.” She stated and I felt it come before I could stop it—I smacked her arm as hard as I could with deeply wounded pride. 

Ymir guffawed as she took hold of my wrist, keeping me from fleeing back into the shadows. 

“You’re an asshole! I should’ve never shown you!”

“No! No!” Ymir was cackling, struggling to keep me close to her. “Historia! Please!”

“God! I should kill you!”

“Such pride! Relax!” Ymir finally was able to wrangle me closer as she made me sit next to her.

“Ugh!” 

“You’re alright, you’re alright,” Ymir hushed, giggling the last of her mischievous humor out. 

I couldn’t believe she’d think I’m ugly—I wasn’t ugly! I was pretty because I looked just like my mom! She was the most beautiful woman in the world and yet—

“I think you look like a person,” Ymir’s breath was right on my temple and I sharply inhaled, stopping all thoughts. “And, yeah, you’re right, Historia—you’re so beautiful…”

She gave the gentlest peck on my temple. 

“Maybe one day,” she murmured against my temple, “you’ll tell me why you hide. You don’t have to now if you don’t want to.” 

I felt her chest against my arm. Her long legs next to my bare ones and how I could hear her sniff my hair and taking in my scent. 

She was so shameless and stupid. 

“After we find who you are,” I responded, feeling upset. The heat was pinpricking my eyes now. 

Ymir was definitely shameless and stupid, but she was selfless. Worrying about me over how she couldn’t remember anything. 

“And—“ why would she—“and you can’t leave me again! You’re such a selfish asshole!” 

“Yeah, I know,” she rested her cheek on top of my head, “tell me all about it. It’s okay. We have all this storm for you to tell me how shitty I am.”

“G-Good!” She ignored my tears as I cried, blubbering out why she was awful, as all my mind could really focus on was how she held my hand, rubbing her thumb over the back of my hand to soothe me through it all.


	7. Crashing Waves on a Dead Sea

By morning, the rain had let up to only a drizzle that I could barely hear on the roof tiles. 

Ymir was laying close behind me, sprawled out with her gangly limbs everywhere—a hand over my shoulder, a foot against my ankle. Despite her unruly arrangement, she was a gentle sleeper. It was hard to focus on anything else but her. At times, I’d think she’d never breathe again or that I was only hearing phantasms of breath, forged from my anxiety riddled mind. 

I rolled over and stared at her, waiting for her to wake. It felt wrong to wake her with how peaceful she looked. It was like a new person without the mischievous glint or scowl of some deeply hidden loathing. 

I spent my morning like this until she began to shift—it first started with her neck tensing up. Her hands slowly came up, rubbing at her collarbones, and then around her neck like something was choking her. Her eyebrows were narrowing in distraught, her mouth hitched open with pants, and with a low groan she woke up. All tension left. She opened her eyes to ignorant bliss of what I just witnessed. 

“It’s still raining,” Ymir whispered, unaware of me. She peered over and only smiled briefly. “Can you hear it, too?” 

“Yeah.” She saw my face, too, and I watched her eyes taking in the sight. 

“You look worn down,” she commented. Her hand reached out and I tried to not let her show how much it felt to have someone’s warmth on my cheek. “I bet you used to turn heads at all the parties, didn’t you?” 

“I still do,” I couldn’t bite down the smile and she chuckled. I could smell and almost taste her awful morning breath, but I choked down a laugh, burying my face into her hand. 

“Yeah, smartass,” Ymir stirred a bit more, stretching her legs and popping her ankles, “I meant that you used to be the textbook of beauty. I bet you got good sleep, or used makeup to cover those designer bags, and you went the extra mile to make you didn’t break out—“ her thumb went near my chin, gently brushing against a small cluster of pimples. 

“Don’t touch them,” I pulled away and she only watched. Her eyes gave away every emotion she had—I could see it in her eyes that she saw me and only me. She didn’t even see the pimples or eye bags or unkempt hair. She just…

“We should get going, then,” Ymir yawned and blew more stinky breath in my direction. I slapped her shoulder, getting up. 

“Your breath is awful,” I couldn’t help it this time. It was full on in my face and it smelled like rotting fish. I even gagged. 

“God, so dramatic,” Ymir grumbled as I went to grab my dry clothes. “Toss mine over, will ya’?” 

Her shirt slapped right into her face.

**-x-x-x-**

“Why did you leave?” We were walking down the hill, watching as people were continuing to work on the damages the storm brought. Some branches fell here and there, a few unlucky families had them fall on sheds or old fences, but it was relatively peaceful.

Ymir sort of shrugged, watching the runoff race down the sides of the road, rushing towards the ocean at the bottom. 

“I just… felt something pull me there. I had to go…” Ymir was embarrassed. I could tell with how she couldn’t look at me and how often she’d kick a stick or pebble that found its way on the sidewalk. 

“Do you think you were remembering something?” I was selfish before by dragging Ymir into my own business when she was the unfortunate one. It was time I at least tried to help her. Maybe if I did I’d feel better on the inside.

“Maybe… yeah… something about that place, probably.” She wasn’t helping much but I wouldn’t blame her. She went through a lot—I could tell by how she woke this morning. 

We continued downward until we saw service men near a downed pole, assessing the damage. 

“Electricity has been out since yesterday.” 

“What time?”

“Afternoon or something. The wind got something awful. This pole was old—I kept telling them it needed to be fixed before the rainy season. Bastards never really listen.”

I felt my feet start running before I could. 

“Historia!” Ymir gasped! “What’re you doing!?”

I was a selfish brat lost in my own world of suffering demise. I was no good. I was awful. I didn’t deserve people to care for me, because I forgot all about them the moment something went wrong for me. 

How could I forget about Grandma? 

She had been alone since the afternoon yesterday and none of the electricity was working. How did she get any wood for the fireplace? Was she able to stay warm? What about food?

I couldn’t stop crying as I ran down, feeling helpless and stupid. I could only keep thinking it. 

I didn’t want to be like my mom and leave grandma alone. I didn’t want her to suffer because nobody stayed and cared for her. I didn’t want her to think she was unloved, because—

“Historia!” Ymir was behind me as we got to the gate and opened it. Sitting on the porch was grandma, holding a phonebook and her house phone. She stopped what she was doing. 

“Historia? Dear? Is that you?” She asked, worried. She even stood up and blindly tried to grasp for a support beam. 

“Grandma! Careful!” Armin came out of the open door I didn’t notice. He gently took her hand and saw me. 

“Historia! There you are!” I could see his face flood with relief. “Grandma and I have been worrying all night! Are you okay? What happened to your rain jacket?”

“Historia,” Ymir stood next to me as I felt the stupid hiccupping start. I couldn’t even breathe right as I hunched over, crying into my own hands, because I never wanted the world to see me again. 

I didn’t want them to see my pain. 

If they didn’t, they would never see my weakness and hurt me for it.

**-x-x-x-**

Ymir didn’t budge in the story I made up that we got rained in and just spent the night at the shrine. Grandma was fussy and asking if I got a cold and if I ate and if and if and if and if…

It all made me feel awful as I soaked in the bath. At first, Grandma tried to barge in and wash me because I must be weak and ill from all the rain, but Armin reeled her in with tea and that I was a grown woman. 

I glanced over at the door and saw underneath it and the familiar shadow of Ymir’s body. She was sitting there, guarding the door. She was awfully protective. 

“Is Historia done?” Armin kept checking in, worried. 

“She’ll be done when she is.” Ymir would interject, running him off with her sour mood, but it seemed like that just wouldn’t do anymore. 

“She’s been acting weird… Grandma doesn’t know about… the paper bags. And to throw yourself in the storm… Doesn’t that worry you?” Armin was digging for answers because I had abused Grandma’s trust and disability. She never would’ve saw how thin I was, how I wore the paper bags, and how I avoided everyone. She was blind and I was… 

I was just…

Just like my mom…

“How about you mind your own business, huh? If she wants to tell you, she will,” Ymir growled, “ain’t no point of you pressing me about it. Respect Historia!” 

Armin was quiet. 

“I do respect her, Ymir,” his voice was low. Obviously he was hurt and angry. After all, we used to be good playmates when he did visit. Maybe he thought those small moments would bridge the gap and thought I’d be obligated to spill everything to him. “But, she is in her own world, Ymir… she’s unwell and was left here by her mom. Her mom isn’t coming back. Grandma is growing old. She needs someone to be there for her and I’ll be damned if I let her be alone.” 

Ymir snorted. 

“She can still take care of herself.”

“Then, how do you explain last night?” Armin hissed. 

“Fuck off!” Ymir measured the words very slowly. “Or, I will make sure you will leave her alone. She will come to you if she needs it, alright? Give her some fucking slack. She isn’t helpless.”

Parts of me were happy that Ymir would stand up for me, but other parts wanted to call Ymir a fool because I was worthless. Armin’s words stung and hurt deeply that he’d think I was incapable of making rational decisions or be a functioning human being, but was he wrong?

Depression and self-loathing was like an ocean you were constantly submerged in. You couldn’t see far. You didn’t know where you were. You didn’t know how deep you were lost in it until someone sailing across those waters found you and told you how far you’ve sank. 

If I was a part of the ocean, I would be the algae, slimy rocks at the bottom, staring up at the clouds and ocean spray, hearing them tell me how pathetic and weak I was for not being able to float and fly like them. 

“Good riddance.” Ymir grumbled and I knew Armin left. I pushed myself below the bubbles of the bath and pretended I was exactly what I thought I was. 

But, who was Ymir in my world?

**-x-x-x-**

“A mermaid!” I could hear Grandma’s voice carry upstairs from the living room. Armin and her were eating dinner and discussing old folklore—specifically stories we used to love to hear when we were young.

“I can hear this story a thousand times,” Armin laughed. 

I didn’t need to see Ymir to know she was sitting on her makeshift bed on the floor. 

“It was always magical, wasn’t it?” Grandma chuckled. “That the mermaid would find her way home after it all.”

“No matter it being hundreds of years, no matter her memory being wiped, she found the place she used to call home.” Armin sighed. “It must be sad, though.”

“It is a sad tale,” Grandma agreed. “The mermaid dies because she won’t leave her true love at the end of the rainy season, because she cannot bare forgetting about him.”

“I never really paid attention to that detail when I was young. Just about how pretty she was.” Armin’s voice began to drown out. 

I didn’t want to think of childhood and how Armin got to run back to his loving family and I was stuck with my mom. 

“Are you cold?” Ymir asked. 

I really wasn’t. 

“You keep shaking.” Ymir hesitated. “Like you’re crying or cold…”

I didn’t want to be here. I could feel my body grow heavy as everything didn’t feel real. I was in a place nobody could harm or find me. With or without my paper mask. 

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” Ymir’s words shook. I felt the bed shift as she crawled in behind me. She held me from behind and my whole life was warm again—a flower reemerging from its winter slumber. 

“You don’t need to explain anything to me.” Her hands gently rubbed my stomach and the emotions I kept trying to deny resurfaced. I felt my eyes water and I didn’t know how I could ever grow attached to someone in such a short time. It felt like Ymir had been waiting for me here and was just suspended in time until I showed up so she could heal the sharp, poisonous spikes inside of me.

“I accept everything you are,” Ymir’s words were intimate. Why were they said so strongly? We only met two days ago and yet she shielded me as if she was my wife and husband all at once.

“All I ask,” her voice weaker as her large hands balled up. All at once I realized she didn’t cover my whole body with hers, and that her embrace was actually very small. Ymir was tinier than she really was. 

“All I ask… is that you find me, Historia. Find out who I am…” she was crying. She was a lost child again. “And if I—I am a bad person—I don’t want you to be around me anymore.”

My muscles went rigid.

“I—I don’t want to be the people that hurt you,” she sobbed into the back of my shirt, “I won’t be the people you have to hide from.” 

She never wanted to hurt me because she knew who I was—she knew without me having to explain every trauma—she knew of that I hid from my mom, my dad, and everyone who had ever abused me. She wanted to protect me no matter what. 

“Ymir,” I rolled over and her fish breath came back but I continued on without hesitation. “When we find out who you are and help you recover your memories…”

I forced her hands off of me so she’d have to face me. 

“I will accept everything you are.” My hands went up, holding her cheeks, brushing tears away, but I left it as that. I might’ve had conviction but I did not have strength to kiss her. 

“Everything.” I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her to my chest so she could quiet her cries. 

“Because I have the same feelings as you.”


	8. Curse of the Mermaid

The library was smaller than Historia remembered. It used to be a place full of fun and wonder with other kids racing about during daycare hours. She’d spend time there with Armin and other kids during the holidays and summer. Though, now, its exterior was worn down and there were no shrill children playing. Only two cars were parked by it and one of the windows had cardboard covering the broken glass. 

“I have a feeling this isn’t the first bad storm it’s taken,” Ymir whistled, staring at the underwhelming building. It had to be no bigger than a small convenience store. 

“I remembered it differently.” Historia was disappointed that the place she had enjoyed became so dead. It was almost ironic in some ways. Historia walked up the walkway and stood by the weathered door, placing a hand on the wall beside it and feeling the ripples and creases of the peeling paint. 

“Did you used to come here often?” Ymir was right behind her, following the movements of her hands. Perhaps she knew with how Historia acted that it used to hold great importance to her, but maybe she didn’t want to ask directly. 

“When I visited, Armin and me used to go as soon as we could. There were other kids, of course.” Historia replied, lingering at the door for only a moment longer before going inside. Ymir merely nodded to herself as she trudged in after. 

Thankfully, the inside was well kept. The floors were polished and there appeared to be little to no dust anywhere on the old, scratched bookshelves. 

“Good morning,” an elderly woman greeted. Ymir hadn’t noticed but there was a small office space off to the side. “May I help you?” 

She flinched when Historia turned towards her. The paper bag crinkled as the startled woman took a step back. 

“No thanks,” Ymir replied, ushering Historia further into the library as the woman hesitantly nodded and went back to her duties, closing the door of the office behind her. 

Historia was quiet as she perused the shelves, searching for the newspaper archives. She hoped the library had continued its efforts to be lively despite it all. Ymir kept looking at Historia, wondering whether it hurt to see people react like that towards her mask. 

“Here,” Ymir helped the blonde out of her rain jacket and took off her own, hanging them on the back of a wooden chair. Historia didn’t even acknowledge the help as she pulled out folders that were spilling with newspaper clippings and papers of sorts. 

From Ymir’s angle, Historia was so very small. Even when Ymir sat down Historia was tiny and frail. Her blonde hair was disheveled and frizzy from the rain and what little skin Ymir could see was pale. Porcelain, maybe. 

  
Ymir couldn’t help but want to protect her, but there was more than just this world to protect her from. There was the world within Historia that was knotted and poisonous—a place Ymir couldn’t enter and save her from.

“Say,” Ymir spoke up, “does it bother you, y’know, when people see your mask…?” 

She knew the girl had some sort of issue with her beautiful face—her stupidly pretty lovely face—but a paper bag mask felt more obtrusive than concealing. Surely it brought a lot more attention than negating it. 

“It’s a mask for that reason.” Historia responded. “To conceal.” 

“Yeah, I know that, idiot. I meant, don’t you think it does more harm than good?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well,” Ymir scratched her chin, bored already, “you don’t like attention, right? Wouldn’t just showing your real face be less eye catching? No offense to your beauty or whatever.” 

Historia didn’t pause as she put the folders down onto the table, sorting them out before Ymir and herself, and opening the first one. 

“I don’t like attention but I hate people seeing my face more.” Historia enlightened. Ymir held her tongue on making the comment that Historia didn’t seem to mind Ymir staring and touching her face. 

“These are the records from thirty years ago until now,” she explained, “I don’t think you’re over thirty so I only went back that far. Maybe if we find a missing person’s report we can find out who you are and bring you back to your family.” 

Historia felt good about this. The feeling around her neck lessened as she felt like she was finally helping Ymir. She hated getting lost in her own head and unknowingly dismissing Ymir’s dire situation. It was hard to remember Ymir was lost when she acted so proud and full of herself. She made it seem like nothing was wrong so easily. It was only last night did Historia get the sad and grim reminder that Ymir was just as good as her at hiding her problems. 

“So,” Ymir eyeballed the hundreds of papers that were on the table and the countless that were still tucked into the bookshelves, “we… are going to be here awhile…”

“Yep,” Historia managed a smile. Ymir must’ve saw it because she gave a brief crooked grin. 

“How can you tell when I’m smiling?” Historia ventured to ask, propping her chin on her hands. 

“Because your eyes shine,” Ymir responded as if it was the easiest thing in the world. She shrugged with an easy going attitude as she plucked the first newspaper out. 

“I suppose we should start, huh?” Ymir was already reading away as her eyes went up and down. 

Historia felt her smile widen as she took a folder from the pile. 

“I suppose we should.” Historia had noticed Ymir’s flushed face the moment Ymir had realized she blurted out cheesy words, but she didn’t want to tease the girl for it. 

Historia liked what she said. It made her feel sweet and infectious like painful smiles from eating sour candies.

**-x-x-x-**

Unlike the yesterday storm incident, the two left before the worst of it came. They fled down the hill with the runoff rushing down the streets, hushing their giggles and laughter as they raced to Historia’s grandmother’s until they were safe and soaked inside.

“Good,” Grandma came out of her knitting room, glancing around and listening, “you two are back. The storm is getting bad, isn’t it? Supposed to get even worse from here on out.” 

“We might not be able to go tomorrow, then,” Historia caught her breath as Grandma went to the couch. She sat down and exhaled. 

“Drat, I know,” she sympathized, “it will be closed because of the weather, too. It’s a bit too late to go out and ask to borrow the papers now.”

Ymir’s smile faltered and she was back to scowling. Her sudden silence was obvious at her disappointment. 

“It’s okay, Ymir,” Historia assured, grabbing her hand and squeezing it. “We can always go when it clears up.”

“But when will that be?” Ymir didn’t mean to snap as she removed her hand. 

“Oh, dear,” Grandma got up, feeling around for the two. Historia was the first to go to her and lead her near Ymir. 

“It’s okay. It’s scary, I know,” Grandma soothed, grapsing Ymir’s hands with Historia’s help. “You must only be strong until the storm passes. Such is life and its trial. We can only have patience.” 

Ymir didn’t seem sold on the advice. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Grandma cooed at her as she brought her into a weak embrace. “Gamma will make it all better. How about I make some cookies, hm? My husband had this wonderful recipe he showed me long ago. He’d make it all the time for me when I was sad.” 

She pulled away as Ymir’s eyes were watery and she bit her bottom lip to stop herself from crying. 

“Who knew I’d be repaying the favor later? Come now, dear. How about you and Historia go take a warm bath, hm? I will bake away.” 

“Gamma—“ Historia’s protest fell short as Armin came down the stairs. Ymir instantly turned away, rubbing away at her eyes and turning her back on Historia’s cousin with the excuse of wiping off her rain jacket. 

“Don’t worry. I will help her!” Armin chuckled. 

While he meant well, Historia felt ashamed again. Why was Armin stick around her so often now? 

Was it because of the scare?

Was he snooping?

Every question she had pointed back to her face, mocking her for being irresponsible, untrustworthy, weak, and, worse, being a burden. She felt her face flare up in anger. 

“You two go ahead!” Armin shooed them away, guiding Grandma to the kitchen. The two were glad to take their leave, but Historia stopped at the top of the stairs, looking down and listening to the two laugh in the kitchen. 

Would that have been her and Grandma if she was mentally fit? Being the perfect grandchild and taking care of her… 

“Historia,” Ymir called. 

“Coming.” 

Historia stared and then exhaled, removing herself from earshot of the two. 

She tried her best to remind herself that Grandma didn’t think badly of her, but it was a nagging thought that never left. Maybe some inkling of it had to be true if her mind kept bringing it up. 

Sometimes, the truth hurt too much to fully acknowledge. Historia was glad to leave it up to ignorant bliss.

**-x-x-x-**

The house was dark as lightning and thunder cracked outside, lighting the inside with stark whites against the inky blackness.

Grandma was on the couch with a candle, knitting a small blanket for Ymir’s pet. She didn’t hear the person that was walking in the background because of the storm. 

She lightly hummed to herself, promising her arthritis hands rest after finishing just one more—

“Hello?” She smiled, looking up and peering over where she heard the sound of a drawer opening. “Is that you Historia? Ymir?”

The shadowy figure came from the kitchen and into the living room with Grandma. 

“Oh, Ymir!” Grandma could hear the heavier steps now. “What’re you doing up so late? I was about to head to be myself!”

There wasn’t a response. 

“Are you okay, dearie? You can tell Gamma anything, Ymir.” She patted the spot nearby her on the couch, waiting for a verbal response. “I can’t tell if you’re crying or nodding… my eyes are just awful. I might as well be blind!” 

Another flash of lightning illuminated the house. 

Glinting off the knife that was in Ymir’s hand.


	9. Curse of the Mermaid II

Blood ran down the knife as Ymir kept staggering down the sidewalk. The wind howled as she swayed side to side like the trees of the forest. Her hair whipped around her as she kept going down with all the run-off until she met the cement barricades at the bottom of the hill as ocean spray spat up at her. 

Ymir limped towards the staircase that led to the frothy shore. It was almost consumed with angry waves that crashed against the barricades. 

Ymir’s bare feet went into the warm waters and she stopped, feeling the ocean almost quiet, but it was only the ringing in her ears as she fell to her knees as the waves took her. 

She was dragged out to the depths, carried away by currents and tides until she began to sink into the colder, darker depths. She could only vaguely stare up at the stormy surface and flashes of light brought from the lightning. 

Down here, things were stark in its darkness. It allowed Ymir’s mind to expand and overcome the barriers that were there before. Her memories became clear as light. 

She was on a ship and she was thrown overboard. She had drowned but something kept her soul in place—she had been made anew in body and mind. 

The ocean was her home. It was the key to her memories as she stopped sinking, floating in the abyss. The knife she had once been tightly gripping fell from her grasp and disappeared into the blackness. The blood that was clouding over her arm wound stopped. 

Ymir felt so serene and happy here she wondered why she had ever left to venture on land. Everything was perfect—her eyes closed as a pinprick of light illuminated her body and the water around it. 

A lone tear floated before like a firefly. It danced with the currents until it drifted to the wound on Ymir’s arm and buried itself in the exposed, stinging flesh. From within, it bloomed like a flower, causing the gash to seal itself with light. Within seconds the light disappeared and Ymir was left in the dark but now without a cut. 

Ymir had heard of this before. 

Right. 

Historia’s grandmother had said in her stories that a mermaid’s tear could heal all wounds. 

Ymir smiled. 

She began to remember her purpose.

**-x-x-x-**

“Historia! Oh! Historia!” Grandma was yelling, almost screaming.

The sleep was slapped out of Historia as she shot up, racing to get out of bed. She flew out her door and down the stairs, expecting to see her grandma on the ground from falling, or, worse, something gone wrong. 

“Gamma?!” Historia called out because the lights were still out. The candle Gamma had out was almost extinguished. 

“Right here, dear!” Gamma was near the door with her own raincoat on. “Hurry! Get dressed!”

“Grandma! It’s really bad outside,” she went to her side, holding her back. “It’s too dangerous—“

“Oh but Ymir had left! She left some minutes ago! She told me she was leaving! I thought maybe she needed to step outside for a bit, but she said not to go search for her! Historia! Dear! We must go!” Grandma was frantic as her cold, bony fingers tried to get out of Historia’s warm grasp. 

“Wh—hold on!” Historia felt her throat dry up as she remembered the last time Ymir had left. She ran upstairs, almost knocking over Armin. 

“What’s going on!?” He was still sleepy, holding a flashlight. 

Historia didn’t bother explaining as she pushed open the door to her bedroom and found Ymir’s bed empty. Historia went to her own and ripped the covers and blankets off to find it was empty, too. 

“No,” it slipped between Historia’s lips. “God, no.” 

They were doing so well—they were looking and beginning to really put effort in her search—she had promised Ymir they’d find out who she was! 

“Historia? Is Ymir up there?” Armin must’ve found out what was going on. “I’m going to call Reiner and them to get a search party going.” 

“N-No! I know where she went! I’ll go get her!” She had to be at the shrine in the woods. She was there last time so she must’ve returned—or maybe she was at the library! Historia went back downstairs and began to hastily put on her rain jacket, but Armin’s eyes were wide at seeing Historia’s face. 

“Historia, you’re in your pajam—“

“I don’t care! I got to find her!” Historia shot. 

“At least let me and my friends help!” Armin balked. 

“But who will take care of Grandma?” This time, Historia felt like she had the upper hand against Armin. 

“I will,” Armin wasn’t fazed, “but my friends can help. They know the place well. She couldn’t have gone too far in a few minutes, right, Grandma?” 

“Let Armin call his friends, dear. You’ll get more done. Where do you think she is?” Grandma asked, trying to calm Historia down by holding her hands. 

“I—“Historia stopped herself from protesting. 

Goddammit!

This fucking wasn’t about her but she was making it about her own damn pride and selfishness. Ymir could be hurting or alone somewhere. She didn’t even take her rain jacket or boots! 

“Okay. Yes. Okay.” It came out easier than she expected as she held herself. Why was Ymir leaving her at the worst times? 

It hurt so much. 

She felt herself crying. Armin came closer in attempts to hug her but she shoved him away. 

“Hurry up and call, I-I’m going out.” She rushed out onto the deck. “I-I will be back with Ymir!”

“Be careful!” Grandma quickly went out onto the porch and almost tripped, but Armin caught her. 

“Careful!” Armin worried as he righted his grandmother. He expected her to be out of breath from the near fall, but she walked away from his hands and gripped a support beam nearby. 

“That girl,” she wistfully said, “she’s a lot like me, isn’t she?”

“Wh-What?” Armin stepped forward to make sure his grandmother didn’t get too hasty again. 

“Strong and warm hearted.”

**-x-x-x-**

“Has she come back yet?” Reiner was at the porch, panting. Bertolt, Eren, Connie, and Sasha were right by him and equally as exhausted. They had run up and down their hillside town, trying to find Ymir and then Historia shortly after.

“No.” Armin was worried as Gamma had taken her rocking chair outside. She was bundled up in a ridiculous amount of blankets with only her face peeking through. 

“Please, keep looking.” Grandma begged. She was drifting in and out of sleep but she tried to stay vigilant. “I won’t go inside till I know they’re safe.” 

“It’s almost morning, Grandma,” Armin frowned. “When did Ymir leave last night—four o’clock?”

“That’s right.” Gamma nodded. 

“Why were you up so early?!” Connie groaned. 

“When you get older, sleep is more elusive.” Grandma wearily said. 

“Where do you think they could’ve gone?” Sasha asked as she got back on her feet, ready to search again. 

“Were there any places you and Historia used to go, Sash?” Armin asked, grasping for straws. 

“There was the library, but we checked there three times.” Sasha exhaled, frowning. “I can’t believe after all this time she came back but didn’t even tell me she was in town…”

Armin wished he could answer why she’d do that, but he was given the same cold shoulder. It still pursued even after interacting with her. It was apparent Historia wasn’t the little girl he remembered. 

“I have no clue—“

It was strange. 

Armin had witnessed so many sunrises before, but his breath caught in his throat. Even his friends were starstruck by the sight before them. 

Over the low garden walls, they saw the sun rise through the downpour. Its golden and pink rays cast a heavenly glow upon their town, and, all at once, the rain stopped. The clouds were hurriedly leaving the sky onto distant horizons. 

“What…” Armin breathed, eyes wide. 

“Ymir!” Historia’s voice shot out. 

“Historia!” Grandma croaked, trying to get up. “Are you alright?” 

“She’s running down the main road!” Reiner called out. Armin booked it off the deck and out the main gate just in time to see Historia sprinting down the sloped street. 

“Ymir!” 

The group caught up to Armin in time to see Historia’s face—it was flushed pink from exhaustion, tears were swelling out of her blue eyes, and her blonde hair was flowing behind her as she ran in the morning light, down the sparkling, wet streets. 

“YMIR!” 

Sasha was the only one to peer down at the bottom of the hill. At first, she didn’t see anyone. She squinted her eyes and finally saw it—the floating body on the eerie serene waters of the shore. 

“Oh no,” Sasha clasped her mouth shut as everyone snapped out of their trance and tried to see what Sasha did. 

“I can’t see!” Eren closed his eyes shut, hissing at the glaring bright waters of the ocean below. The sun was hitting it at just the right angle now—  
“What do you see, Sasha!?” Bertolt choked, scared. 

Sasha shook her head in fear. She didn’t want to say it. 

“Ymir!” Historia wouldn’t stay quiet as she kept running as fast as she could down the hill. She was coming upon the cement barricade as Ymir’s body was bobbing up and down in the waters, face up. 

Historia was scared shitless, afraid to find blue lips, swollen and pruny skin. She couldn’t think of Ymir as dead—they had so much to do yet. She couldn’t die! They had to find out her real— Historia descended the stairs and didn’t hesitate stepping into the cold morning water, wading up to her knees in it, splashing and racing to Ymir’s side. 

“YMIR! GOD!” Historia wailed. 

Golden eyes opened and she looked at Historia with such a serene stare. Lazily, unaware of the ruckus, she lifted a hand to Historia—as if offering her to join her. 

“Look,” Ymir’s eyes went to the sky, “it’s clear now.”

Historia was so bewildered that she only snatched Ymir from the water, bringing her close to her body, and sobbing into Ymir’s drenched chest. 

“You left me again! You left me!” Historia cried. “Why do you keep leaving me?” 

Ymir didn’t answer as her eyes were stuck on the harlequin sky. The whole world was tuned out except for the faint whispers of Historia’s hysterical voice and sobs.  


She couldn’t help but remain unfazed by it all, because, now, her memories were back forever and she knew her purpose.


	10. Pathetic

“Will you ever let me go?” 

“No.” Historia sniffled much to her own dissatisfaction. “You keep leaving me.” 

“But,” Ymir was almost cut off by an arm. “Historia… I really need to go to the bathroom.”

Ymir was locked in by Historia’s arms and legs. They were covetously wrapped around her torso. Ymir might as well have been a banana tree with this monkey clinging to her. 

“Fine.” Historia reluctantly relented. Ymir took the opportunity to stretch, popping her joints in a satisfied groan. “But I’m going to sit outside the door so you can’t run away again.” 

Historia had been quiet ever since she dragged Ymir out of the ocean. The two had to be hauled up by Armin’s friends back to Grandma’s house. 

“Can’t even if I wanted to,” Ymir remarked, jutting her thumb towards downstairs. 

It was like a party down there with all of Armin’s friends entertaining Grandma to board games. They were even playing the one’s Papa had brought back from America. 

“They’d tackle me before I could even.” Ymir clicked her tongue, crossing the hallway to the bathroom. Historia was like her shadow as she waited by the door, wary of Ymir. 

“Don’t try to go out the window!” Historia hissed at her. “I made sure you couldn’t!” 

Ymir rolled her eyes as she went into the bathroom to do her business. As she sat on the porcelain throne, her mind wandered to yesterday. 

How could she even forget it?

It was the sole reason she was alive today yet the moment she stepped foot onto land her memory was wiped. 

Maybe it wasn’t lying after all, Ymir concluded begrudgingly. She didn’t want to believe in anything the damned void had said, but so far it hadn’t lied once. 

It even seemed to pity her. Ymir couldn’t choose whether it disgusted or pissed her off most. 

She rubbed her face as an impatient knock rapped at the door. 

“You better not be escaping!” Historia’s muffled voice came. 

Ymir watched in amusement as Historia’s hand even fitted underneath the door as her fingers wiggled threateningly. 

Ymir scoffed out a laugh. 

“Can’t I piss in peace?” 

She heard a light giggle from Historia as the hand withdrew. 

Sometimes, she couldn’t even understand the girl—one minute she was gloomy and broody and the next she was smiling and being clingy. Though, Ymir didn’t have a problem with either one, because she knew Historia cared for her in a way. 

Ymir wiped herself down and flushed the toilet. She slipped her pants backup as she went to the window. 

“I could probably escape if I wanted to,” she said it just loud enough to spark a gasp from Historia. 

“Don’t you dare!” Ymir couldn’t tell if Historia got that she was joking. To get the blonde riled up, she unlatched the window and opened it. It was barely enough room to even calling it an opening. Maybe Historia could fit but Ymir? That’d be a close call. She’d probably scrape off a tit and ass cheek trying. Ymir poked her head out and looked around to see the ‘trap’ but all she saw was a bucket underneath the window, collecting water from the rain. 

“Is this bucket supposed to deter my escape?” Ymir snickered. There was rustling at the door. 

“I—I was bluffing!” 

Ymir shook her head as she withdrew her head and went to the door, unlocking it for Historia. Immediately she bulldozed in and glared at Ymir. 

“You’re such a punk,” she huffed, walking over to the tub and crawling over it. She used the lip of it as a booster to close the window and lock it again. 

“Also!” She turned around, pointing at the sink. 

“Hm?” Ymir was curious as to what she had to say this time. 

“Wash your hands! Gross!” Historia hopped out of the tub and crossed her arms. The sack only wrinkled a bit, but Ymir could see the narrowed eyes. She already could imagine the cute expression underneath. 

“Yeah, yeah,” she sighed, “it isn’t like I was stuffing my fingers in my ass, y’know.” 

“Gross!”

**-x-x-x-**

“We’ll have to get up and eat here soon.” Historia mentioned, laying on her side and facing Ymir. The storm was heavy again and Armin’s friends decided to stick around. Armin said it’d be a fun night for them all but she felt it was to keep a watch on her and Ymir.

“Won’t Armin just bring it up? He did that for breakfast and lunch.” Ymir complained. She had her head buried underneath Historia’s pillow. She even managed to rip the sheets from the bed and was tangled up in that, too. “I don’t want to go and talk to strangers who think I’m a psycho.” 

“I don’t either,” Historia reminded. The mask she was wearing was beyond hope now. It had tears and too many wrinkles in it from sleeping. She even drooled on it and caused a hole to appear near her mouth. 

Slowly, she got up enough to pull it off. The air hit her skin and it was suddenly a lot less humid than it was inside that paper bag. She inhaled the sweet scent of rain. Historia even thought she smelled nectarines. 

“Mm,” Ymir rustled out of her blanket burrow to look at her. “Getting a new one?” 

Historia was sitting up in the bed, pulling her hair back into a pony tail as Ymir watched. 

“I will when we head down.” Historia snapped the rubber band on and exhaled, reaching her fingertips to her wiggling toes as she stretched. 

Sometimes, she missed not having to wear a mask. The feeling of the air, hearing things better, and not feeling encased was… refreshing. 

“I see.” Ymir propped her chin up into her hands. “So, that means soonish later?” 

“Soon.” Historia firmly said to remind Ymir she couldn’t wiggle out of it. “If I have to make an appearance so do you. We’ll suffer together.” 

“Fine.” Ymir moved one arm out to Historia’s arm. She only pressed a finger against the boney appendage as Historia looked at her.

“What?” Historia smiled. 

Wow.

She smiled. 

Ymir was dazed for a moment. She really didn’t understand the girl fully—she hated to be looked at, but didn’t mind a touch? 

“This.” To be fair, Ymir wasn’t in the right state of mind. 

All of the answers were swirling in her head and all she could do was tell herself that she’d hate it all later. 

Ymir’s hand moved from Historia’s arm to her boob and squeezed.

Historia’s eyes widened in surprise as Ymir got a second fondle in. 

“W—why—what are you doing?” Historia didn’t slap her hand away. Only stared. 

“It—It felt right to do!” Ymir hesitantly took her hand back, embarrassed at her impulsive move. 

Historia shook her head and quickly flopped back down onto the bed, facing away from Ymir. 

“Give me some of the blankets, idiot.”

“Y-Yeah.” Ymir gave some to Historia as the blonde got cozied inside the blankets. Ymir refused to let a silence fall between them because of her stupid action. 

“H-Hey, listen, I didn’t mean to—well, I did but it sounded like a good option at the time, but I know in hindsight it really wasn’t—“ Ymir tried to explain the reasoning. At the time, it was like instinct to just grab her like that, but then that made her sound like some animal… 

“It’s fine, Ymir. You do weird things.” Historia reasoned. “But, you could at least… just hold me first?” 

Ymir felt steam rise from her cheeks as she hastily and unattractively scooted over with some grumbles until she could finally hold Historia from behind. It was the best feeling she ever felt to finally bury her face into the back of Historia’s head. 

“I can feel every breath you take.” Historia said. “Ymir, seriously, stop snorting my hair.” 

“But it smells so good!” Ymir teased, earning a little jab from Historia’s sharp elbows. “Okay, okay.”

Ymir was content with just holding Historia by her waist and sneaking obvious sniffs of her hair, but she felt Historia’s hands take hers, guiding them up—

“At least do it right this time.” Historia shakily breathed. 

Ymir didn’t know what to do now that she had them. They were so soft with a pleasing weight to them. Lightly, she pressed her fingers into them, fondling them softly. Every movement made Historia’s breath shudder until even her hips and legs were squirming a little with it. 

_I’m not even fully touching them._ Ymir wondered how it’d be like if she did it without Historia’s baggy shirt or bra on. 

Ymir kept licking her lips as she felt her senses becoming hazy. She couldn’t help but lower her mouth to Historia’s exposed shoulder and lightly kiss her there. 

“Ah.” 

Ymir nearly screamed when the door swung open as she hid her face into Historia’s hair, glad that the blanket was covering where her hands were. 

“Dinner will be done!” Sasha cheered as she saw Historia’s startled, red face and Ymir pathetically hiding behind Historia’s body. 

“Oh. Well.” Sasha backed away, embarrassed. “Er—don’t spoil your appetite, okay?” 

She slammed the door and hurried, descending footsteps were heard down the stairs as Historia covered her own face, whining. 

Ymir was equally as ashamed at getting caught. 

Yet, her hands remained.

**-x-x-x-**

There were alcoholic drinks.

Lots of them. 

At first, Historia was wary and didn’t feel like it, but the more she saw her Grandma put away the more she felt the need to drink until Ymir finally suggested she should. After all, it was a get together and she should at least pretend to enjoy it, right?

Wrong. She got drunk. 

“You have a pretty face.” Sasha whispered, sitting next to Historia at the table. She even kicked her foot like how they used to when they were kids, but, now, Historia’s toes only reached Sasha’s calves. “Why you hiding it?” 

Historia was good at hiding how drunk unlike Eren and Reiner, who were bickering over arm wrestling and ping pong. Of all the things…

“Cause,” Historia tried to reason. It was pretty futile, though. The alcohol was making her feel warm and sort of silly. The paper bag was heating and turning into a sweathouse. 

“Cause?” Sasha gestured for her to elaborate. 

“It makes me feel disgusting.” Historia nodded. Nobody was really paying attention to the two. Even Ymir was over by the boys, playing cards, and cackling at their antics. She didn’t even have to try and fit in—she was adopted amongst them. 

“Why? That’s, like, the opposite of being pretty!” Sasha was surprised. “I remember when we were kids—you were hella pretty! You should wear it with confidence!” 

“Mm. My mom doesn’t think so.” Historia mentioned and that caused Sasha immediate sadness. She remembered how happy Historia would be to run up and down the hill with them, play at the beach, and take walks with her Papa and Sasha as they went to Sasha’s house. Historia was always happy here, but she always cried and begged to stay when her mother came to pick her up. 

“My father told me when I last saw you,” Sasha said, putting her legs on top of Historia’s under the table. It was a friendly gesture, sure, but it made Historia feel weird—weirdly nice. “That you might not come back… He said… your mom wasn’t a good person.”

Maybe if she was sober she would’ve gotten upset and stormed off, but, right now, she could barely feel a thing. 

“She isn’t. Not really. She has her good days.”

“But they don’t outweigh her bad days.” Sasha finished for her. 

“Every day is a bad day.” Historia quietly agreed. 

“So, your mom did something… to make you feel like this?” Sasha asked. 

It was hard for Historia to pin point the exact moment she began doing this. She knew during high school it was only a build up until then. At least at school, everyone loved seeing her and being around her. They made her feel welcome, but at home her mother twisted their attention and kindness into undesired sexual implications and morbidness. 

It slowly built up like a storm until it just came crashing down. 

“Yeah.” Historia nodded, staring off at Ymir. 

Lately, though, she hadn’t felt as scared to show her face. Sure, Ymir was a little sexual with her, but… it wasn’t unwanted… it wasn’t the grotesque things her mother whispered when the boys of her class were kind… it wasn’t the distain her mother assured her that the girls had for her… It was something warm and sweet. 

It was contradicting but she remembered Hanji saying that human nature doesn’t follow logic. Sometimes, things just happened and we do what we felt was best. 

“We aren’t like that, y’know.” Sasha whispered to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and lightly jostling her. “We’re your friends, remember? Just all grown up.”

Why would her mother tell her that everyone only wanted to get into her pants or was using her for their own gain? 

Historia had a hard time grasping the implications—maybe she didn’t want to and that was the problem. 

This paper bag… 

Was it a prison or denial? 

“Especially Ymir,” Sasha quietly giggled against Historia’s hair, “I’m sure she thinks you’re pretty great.” 

If her mother treated her terribly, said people only lied, but Ymir and Sasha and everyone else were sincere with their kindness and patience and love, who was the real liar? The people she met only a few times in her life, people she shared rare moments of joy with, or was it the person that gave her life, who took care of her since infancy, the person who was supposed to have unconditional and undeniable love for her? 

How could the lonely child inside of Historia accept the fact that her mother might’ve never loved her when she had always loved her mother?

It was— _pathetic._


	11. Fate Is Against Us

Historia could only describe her drunken state as poetic. Not by the way she slurred her words, clung to Ymir until she was picked up and brought to their bedroom, or that she had to escape for a moment to puke, but that it was full of emotions that didn’t want to cooperate with her limited vocabulary. 

How she felt wasn’t a single word. It was several. 

Attached to her heart were blossoms of fond memories, and bitter murky things that resurfaced as unconscious pangs of disgust and exhaustion. It was a fast cycle of pouring rain, blinding her to what was happening now with Ymir, but it also made her that much more aware of how important it was to feel. 

Not to hide behind a mask but to really let people see who she was. 

Who cares if she felt like shit all the time? That was no reason to hide face. She knew. Oh, she knew. But what about seeing herself in the mirror and envisioning her mother’s disappointed face and how cruel her words were and the taste of their venomous and sharp edges. 

All she could do was drink the sorrow and joy as it came up like vomit, suffocating her and making her heart lurch with every thought. 

“There you go,” Ymir had Historia laying on the bed’s edge with a bucket by her. 

“You should really be careful. Getting this drunk over nothing is no good.” Ymir’s hands came at Historia’s face like blurry claws. 

“Mm no,” Historia tried to pull her head away, laughing, but it wasn’t that funny. Nothing really was.

“Knock it off,” Ymir softly said as she easily took hold of Historia’s head. “I’m not going to do anything funny. Just tying your hair up, see? That way if you do puke it won’t get in it.” 

The sensation of Ymir’s fingertips coursing through her hair was heavenly. It was the simplest of pleasures that Historia couldn’t deny herself from as she closed her eyes, breathing deeply. 

“That’s nice,” Historia drawled as Ymir’s hands made disappointingly quick work of her hair. 

“There.” Ymir assured by patting the top of her head. “You’re all set for some sleep.”

Ymir began towards the door as Historia could feel that pit in her stomach growing, branching out like an insidious seed. 

“Ymir, where you going?” Historia regretted sitting up so quickly but Ymir waved her off. 

“Turning off the light, dingbat.” 

Historia giggled.

“Dingbat,” she repeated, amused and flopping back down. 

The lights flicked off and they were submerged in the late night. The only sounds were of the rain and small talk downstairs from Sasha and Eren. It sounded a lot like home—her only home. This was becoming her home. 

Home.

It really could be her home. 

“ _Dingbat_ ,” she laughed more. 

“You really love that one, huh?” Ymir walked around the bed and crawled up from the foot of it, snuggling into the blankets and pillow with a sigh. Historia nodded, rolling over to face Ymir. 

“I could really get used to this,” Ymir hummed, nuzzling her pillow. Historia could only faintly make out Ymir’s lean figure from the light seeping from under the bedroom door. 

“Hey, Ymir,” Historia poked her side. “Can I ask you something?”

Ymir’s chuckle was muffled against the pillow. 

“Sure,” she pulled her head away, looking at Historia. “I’m curious what drunk you has to say.” 

Historia scooted closer and blindly reached out for Ymir’s face. Her palm touched Ymir’s jawline and felt it at ease. A lot of the times Ymir tried to seem casual and happy, but her jaw was always tense. Always saying one thing but meaning the other. 

“What will you do when you find out who you are?” Historia asked into the darkness and Ymir’s shrouded face. 

Part of her believed Ymir would tell the truth but another was afraid she wouldn’t. Historia didn’t have to know her for years to understand that there were things inside of Ymir that clawed and scratched and the only way to lessen it was to ignore it. 

“Will you leave?” Historia felt her own face falter at the idea. It was on her lips but she didn’t want to say it. 

_Will you leave me again, but this time for good?_

“That’s a really hard question to ask,” Ymir exhaled loudly. “Here I thought you’d ask me to grab your boobs again or something.”

“I’m not playing around, Ymir.” Historia held her cheek, trying to show Ymir that she didn’t want to joke around anymore. 

“And I’m not either,” Ymir didn’t react to her touch. “It’s unfair for you to ask me that… I don’t know what I’m going to do.” 

Historia took her hand away, pulling away altogether. 

“So you will leave me.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“But you didn’t deny it either.” Historia turned away from Ymir, holding herself. She felt worse for wear now. She didn’t even want to try and understand it. 

“I’m not going to lea—

“You already broke that promise.” Historia interrupted. “Let’s just… sleep.” 

Ymir’s hand was out, almost touching Historia’s back as she felt guilty. 

She couldn’t stay but she couldn’t leave either. Each had implications and things she neither wanted to infer or do. 

“Historia,” Ymir let her hand fall, wishing she could close the distance, “I just wanted you to know that I want to stay… I really do.” 

If she did, someone had to die, and Ymir wasn’t going to let herself be the murderer. 

_I won’t be like him._

**-x-x-x-**

“Sasha’s grandma was always nice,” Historia mentioned as they stepped under the awning of the small library. The blonde immediately set upon fishing the key from her rain jacket. Ymir took this moment to collapse their umbrella and shake off the excess water. With a cheeky grin, she splashed a little on Historia and earned a glare from behind the holes in the mask. 

“There,” Historia unlocked the door and opened it and ushered Ymir in. She followed after as the taller woman peered around. She saw the rectangular protrusion from the wall—it was that thing, that thing that Historia—

“Boop.” Historia flicked the switch and the whole building lit up. 

“Neat.” Ymir never got to fiddle with any of the switches before. Historia was already putting her coat on the rack and taking off her rain boots to keep the wooden floor dry. When the blonde made her way further in the library, Ymir took the opportunity she had waited for. 

“Ymir!” The lights flickered on and off like a strobe as Ymir snickered with impish delight. She watched in joy as Historia walked over and placed her hand on Ymir’s, stopping her from her antics. “Don’t do that.”

“It’s fun,” Ymir did stop, though, as she stared at Historia’s hand on hers. “Maybe you should try to have fun more often.”

Historia seemed to consider that thought as she lingered. 

“Maybe in the future,” her eyes were downcast before peering up at Ymir, “until then, let’s try to find out who you are. Maybe get a full name I can yell when you get in trouble.”

“Or for other things,” Ymir sang as Historia took her hand away, shaking her head. “Oh! C’mon! Not even a little?”

Historia didn’t answer as she led Ymir to the back of the library where their unofficial table was. She went straight to the records, pulling old binders out to pore over. 

“Let’s try to do our best.” 

“Mm,” Ymir watched the files stack as Historia brought over the newspaper clippings, one by one. Her weak arms were shaking by the mere weight of the binders. 

It was sweet of her, really, but the more Ymir saw the more she felt disconnected from the whole ordeal. It was a lot of work to do for something she already knew, but how could she tell Historia that? 

How could she tell Historia she remembered everything? 

“Hey, kiddo,” Ymir spoke up as the blonde sat down, filing through the stack until she picked a folder and began to sort the papers out of it. “Hey… Historia…”

“What?” She didn’t look up as a lone finger followed every line, up and down. 

“So, uh, I know we put a lot of thought into this, and, y’know, effort and all,” Ymir leaned back in the chair, fidgeting as she began to pop her knuckles. “But, let me just, sort of, y’know, throw this out there.” 

This caught Historia’s attention as she stopped skimming the pages. 

“What is it?”

“So… I know we’re hung up on my identity, but, what if… y’know… we can just… stop?”

Historia’s eyes widened and Ymir couldn’t tell if it was from surprise or shock or—

“What do you mean?” Historia’s voice was almost accusing as her eyes narrowed. “Don’t you want to find out who you are? What if you have family and—“

“But what if,” Ymir interjected quickly, “what if I’m happy with who I am now?” 

“I don’t understand,” Historia replied. She spreaded out the newspaper clippings and pointed to one. “Family reports daughter missing after she didn’t return home after school.”

“I’d be in my thirties.” Ymir clarified, brushing off the clip. “Far too old.”

Historia stole a recent folder from Ymir’s pile and opened it up, revealing several other missing person’s ads. 

“Daughter missing after break up with abusive bo—“

“Mm I’m pretty sure we know I don’t like boys.” Ymir grinned, looking Historia up and down, but it sent a sickening lump in Historia’s throat. 

“Daughter not found after going on trip to—“

“Historia.” Ymir exhaled. “Trust me. I have no family.”

“You don’t know that! You can’t,” Historia flinched when Ymir tried to take her hand, “no, knock it off—you can’t honestly believe you don’t have a family? You had to come from somewhere! You leave and end up floating on the shore in the middle of a storm! You have no memory! How can I trust you—“

“Historia.” Ymir finally yanked Historia’s hand into hers. She stared evenly into her eyes. “Your family says that you have problems. They don’t trust you.”

Each word was making Historia’s eyes water. These were things she knew, but nobody outright shoved them into her face. Ymir’s words were like stakes into her heart. 

“People say you’re weird. Maybe some think you’re a freak because of that paper bag, but,” Ymir stopped, releasing her shaking hand and leaning over to slowly take the corner of the bag, “I know you’re not. I know you’re kind. I know you’re good… you are all those things to me.” 

Maybe Ymir saw through her. 

Maybe she knew that Historia was investing too much of herself into this investigation. 

“I trust you, Historia. I know you’re none of those things. So, please, trust me… I can prove to you why all these things are happening and what happened to me. Okay?” 

Inch by inch, Ymir took off the mask until Historia’s flushed cheeks and tears were for all to witness. Her blue eyes held such anger and hurt pride. Ymir wanted to chuckle at the pouty expression, the sight of Historia being caught for maybe making the investigation more about herself than Ymir. 

“Y-You’re such a jerk!” 

Ymir gave a soft smile and brought her hand down to cup Historia’s cheek. 

“I get like that when I’m around a girl I really like.” She apologized with a breathy chuckle, making Historia’s lips betray her bruised ego. 

“You’re honestly the worst. I don’t know what you mean when you talk like this.” Historia fought against the instinct to just give in. She didn’t want to just easily give into Ymir’s charm and forget finding her true self. 

“You will. I will show you. All I ask is that… we stop searching. There’s nothing waiting for you. Nothing to be recovered.” Ymir’s words were so foreign and strange.

Historia shook her head a little, trying to will it out. Her hands dug into the clippings, scratching at them. These were very important…

They were—

“You promise?” Historia was crumbling in defeat as she withdrew her hands, staring down at the newspaper and all the articles that begged for more information of a missing daughter. 

She trusted Ymir, but what if trusting her would hurt others? A family that waited every day, wished every night, for their missing daughter to return? 

Historia couldn’t keep these thoughts in her mind and heart. They ate at her, tore at her, but she felt it ease like the ebbing tides on a beach. 

Whatever troublesome emotions lingered were washed away like the seashells against the whisking waves. 

“I promise.” Ymir got up and held out her hand. “How about we seal this with baking a cake? Your grandmother might like that, right? She said she had a sweet tooth.”

Hesitantly, Historia got up, smearing her tears away against her sleeve, and smiling as a giggle bubbled up from her throat. 

Why was she even so emotional?

She was being so… silly. 

“Gamma says a lot of things.” Historia agreed, taking Ymir’s hand. She almost forgot about her mask entirely until Ymir pointed it out.

“How about… we leave that behind? We can get you another one back at home, yeah?” Ymir suggested. 

It was strange.

“Yeah.”

Ymir had ensured she retracted the charm spell after she enchanted Historia to forgive and forget the investigation, but on Historia’s own volition, she chose to go into public without the mask for now. Even just this once. 

“Yeah? Cool.” Ymir did her best to not make a big deal of it, but her goofy grin said everything as Historia smiled at her. Oh, how she loved her smile. No longer was it hidden today. It was all hers to keep and cherish. 

“Let’s go.” Ymir wondered how deep she was in. 

How long could she lie?

She was doing it all for Historia. She was forgetting her own problems and was investing too much of herself into Historia. 

It felt bittersweet to live through Historia, but, at the same time, the person she was before… was angry. Tired. Pissed. Bent on revenge. 

A voice inside of Ymir asked whether she truly change, or if Historia was a passing fancy that’d bide her time before she’d hunger for that revenge again. 

What if she leaves you? 

Ymir quieted the voices as she helped Historia put back on her damp raincoat, unaware of fate’s cruelest joke playing right before her preoccupied mind—how easy she could’ve saved herself from downfall that was to come—as Historia absently slipped the newspaper clipping of Ymir’s past into her pocket.


End file.
